


Karma

by MaevesChild



Series: Raider Babes [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Girl Power, Multi, Non Sole Survivor Protagonist, Nuka-World DLC (Fallout 4), Other, Profanity, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 40,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaevesChild/pseuds/MaevesChild
Summary: The sole survivor is a real bastard.  He found what he was looking for and chose family and comfort over his new friends and everyone else.  But enough about him.  He's a jerk.Three hard-ass raider chicks have been through a lot and it's time for them to finally get a big score.  When shit went down between the Brotherhood of Steel and the Institute, they were there to take advantage of the opportunity.  The Brotherhood might not have won that battle, but even in defeat Arthur Maxson has a lot to answer for.An AU tale inspired by the indomitable talk_elfy_to_me and danarrhea on Twitter.  They take all the blame.





	1. Fire and Brimstone

An explosion shook the ground.  It was enough that it half woke Trix out of the haze of Med-X and Whiskey that finally knocked her out a few hours before.  Blue’s voice did the rest.

“Fuckin’ shit, what was that?”  Blue was jittery.  Probably the Jet.

Trix squinted her eyes.  Blue had her fist wrapped around the barrel of her shotgun, blonde hair flying in all directions as she turned her head back and forth to listen.  Trix tried to drag herself upright to figure out what the hell was going on.  There was entirely too much noise coming from the other side of the chained door.  Screaming, gunfire, crackling.  It was never really quiet, but this was a lot more bullshit than usual.  She caught a faint whiff of smoke.  

“What the fuck Blue?” Shade’s voice was rough.  She was pissed.  “I’m fucking sleeping here.”

Blue shook her head irritably as they pulled themselves together.  “How drunk are you that you didn’t hear that?”

Trix swung her legs around as she sat up, the mess of her ginger hair flopped over her eyes.  She was glad she still had her boots on.  Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and hung it unlit from the corner of her mouth.  She heard Shade groan as she sat up, holding her head in her hands, her long dark hair swinging over her pale face.

“I’m too fucking hungover for this shit,” she muttered.  She looked up at Blue and Trix could tell by the look on her face she was brewing up some epic profanity.  Instead she wrinkled her nose.  “What is that smell?  It’s like someone set tires on fire.”

Blue shrugged.  “I don’t know, but it ain’t good.”

Trix dragged herself to her feet and grabbed her pistol off the table.  “She’s right.”  Trix smirked a little.  “And whenever shit isn’t good, it’s good for us.  Let’s see who we can fuck up in the chaos, shall we?”

Shade chuckled.  “Let’s go shoot assholes in the face and take their stuff.”

* * *

“Holy shit.”  It took a hell of a lot of surprise Shade.  She was as salty as they came, but even she sounded rattled.  She was pale as hell, dark eyes like black spots in her face.  Blue was at a loss for words.

Trix didn’t blame either of them.  She’d never seen anything like it.  

They were scary.  They were a fucking force to be reckoned with at the docks.  There were plenty of raider gangs around there but not a one dared fuck with them.  But ever since those Brotherhood of Steel bastards rolled into the Commonwealth, they’d been tiptoeing around the airport like it was full of ferals with diarrhea.  Those guys had vertibirds and nukes.  There was no way in hell they were gonna fuck around with them.  Well, they’d all managed to _fuck_ a few of them, but that was another matter entirely.  

Now, their giant murder robot was a smoking crater in the middle of the airport.  Everything else was on fire.  

“Who the fuck did _that_?” Blue’s eyes were wide.  The fire was burning hot enough to make wind and it blew her hair back away from her face, the swirled tattoos on the side of her head just barely visible in the darkness.

Trix grunted, brushed some ash off her eyelashes.  “Who do you think?”

Shade snorted knowingly.  “I keep hoping those fuckers will show up to do something besides blowing shit up.”  She sighed.  “Aren’t the Institute supposed to be a bunch of smart people?  Fuck them.  They’re just raiders with bigger guns.”

“Raiders who steal people and replace them with synth slaves.”  Trix hated their guts.  She’d met a couple free synths in the past and she felt sorry for them.  The whole thing was crap.

“Yeah, well, there’s gonna be nothing left but melted scrap metal and corpses.  What’s the point of that?” Blue groused.  “Those Brotherhood assholes had the best toys.”

“Amongst other things,” Trix insinuated.  She didn’t let herself dwell anything for too long if she could help it.  Guns, sex, caps.  That was enough.  

“No shit, right?” Shade agreed.  

It was a fucking shame, all that fine military grade ass going up in flames.

“Well, there’s bound to be something still worth taking,” Shade continued.  “Assuming we get our asses over there before the fire spreads anymore.”

“Good point.”  Trix pulled her pistol out of her waistband.  She checked the clip.  “I’m sure we won’t be the only ones with that thought.”  She grinned, blue eyes glittering under the reflection of flames.  “Saddle up bitches.  We’re going hunting.”

* * *

Shade was right.  There was plenty of haul.  Bodies from the battle were scattered all over the place, plenty of them outside the reach of the fire.  Fusion cells, laser rifles, armor.  It was amazing.  They were gonna be up to their tits in caps after this.

Trix was wrong though.  The fire was putting the other scavengers off.  It was hot and it stunk like hell.  But those babies could be pussies if they wanted to be.  More for her.

The synths were freaking Trix out though.  They weren’t the ones that looked like fake people.  They were the weird plastic ones with the glowing eyes.  Thankfully the ones scattered all over the ground were in pieces and their eyes were mostly dark, except a few flickers here and there.  They put bullets through those, just in case.

Blue made her way down to the beach, picking along the sand.  Stuff was already washing in with the tide.  Lots of bodies, but that meant caps and chems in their pockets.  Better to do it now before they started to stink.

“Hey guys!” she shouted.  “I found some power armor!”

Now _that_ would be a prize.  They found some pieces, but most of them were blown to hell.  Maybe some tinkerer could get them up and running again, but that wasn’t their style.  But a whole set was another matter entirely.

Shade ducked her head out of a blown out airplane fuselage.  “What’s this about power armor?”

Blue was nudging the leg of the suit with the tip of her boot.  The suit was face down in the sand, just above the line of the tide.  The fusion core was blown clear and good thing too.  There were scorch marks all along the black.  Fire, laser rifle blasts.  If either had hit it full on the core, the whole set would have gone up.  

“Nice,” Shade muttered, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.  “Probably a corpse in it.  Think it’ll still open up without a core?”

“Probably, but it’s useless until we find one,” Blue said.  She put her foot up on the ass of the armor and flicked a glob of mud off her boot.  

“Still, let’s get the body out now before it turns to slop,” Shade said.  “I think I’ve got a couple cores stashed back at the warehouse in Goodneighbor.”

“Right.”  Blue straightened up and put her hand on her hip, posing and grinning.  “Who wants to do the honors? Might still have a nice ass under there.”

Trix rolled her eyes.  “Just get outta the way. You can get laid in Goodneighbor when we go get the core.”  She crouched down and put her hand on the back of the armor.  Blue poked her in the ass with her boot.

“I’m not gonna screw a corpse Trix,” she snarked.  “Jesus fuck.”  She laughed.

Trix ignored her and turned the release on the back.  She tried to moved out of the way when the armor started to hiss open.  Wet sand went flying into her face and she sputtered, losing her balance and falling on her ass in the sand.   Seawater immediately soaked through her jeans.  She brushed sand off her face.

“Shit, he _does_ have a nice ass,” Shade said.  She leaned over to get a closer look, hands on her thighs.

Trix got back up on her feet and took a look.  

_Okay.  That was a nice ass._

It was a man inside, unmistakably.  Tall and muscular with a black, skin tight uniform pulled tight across his broad thighs.  The fabric was dry except where it was blood soaked.  He’d taken a bullet in the calf.  It didn’t look good.  Poor bastard was probably lucky he was dead.  His leg looked like ground meat.

“Now that is a waste of a fine piece,” Blue said, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Damn.”

Trix didn’t want to think about it.  She reached in and tried to grab a handful of fabric on either side of his ribcage to yank him out of there.  The body was still warm.  He was probably gonna be heavy.  At least he hadn’t been dead long enough to go all stiff.  She hated that.

The body inside the armor groaned.

Trix flinched; they all did.  Shade yanked her rifle off her shoulder.  They all stood still for a few racing heartbeats.  

“Fuck,” Blue muttered.  “I hate it when they do that.”

Trix swallowed.  Corpses were weird; making sounds, jerking around.  She figured you never got used to it but she hated when she got jumpy.  That’s how people got bullets to the face.  Not that it mattered much to this guy.  Trix got a grip on herself and on him again and pulled hard.  Shade still had her gun trained on him.

He groaned again and this time, took a deep agonizing breath and started to cough.  Trix froze.

“Fuck, he’s not dead,” Shade said.  She nudged Trix’s shoulder with her knee.  “Move so I can fix that.”

Trix looked up at Shade over her shoulder.  “Hang on.  Ask questions first, shoot later.”  Shade let the barrel of the gun drop.

“Fine,” she said.  “But if you flip him over and he shanks you, I’m gonna laugh.”

Trix resisted the urge to sigh.  Shade was paranoid.  But hell, they all were.  Everyone was an asshole and it was better to shoot people in the face than take chances.  That’s how they’d stayed alive this long.  But he was probably gonna die anyway.  No point in wasting a bullet.

Blue crouched down beside her and they managed to get him on his back.  He was unconscious, but his entire body cringed when they moved his leg.  It didn’t look quite as bad from the front, but he lost a lot of blood.  Poor guy was fucked.

His head lolled to the side.  The sides of his head were shaved almost to the skin but the top was long and his hair flopped down over his face.  He had a thick, heavy beard and it was bloody too; he’d bit straight through his lip.  There was a long, but old scar running down the side of his face.  Trix squinted at him.

“Shit,” Trix muttered.  Despite the beard and the scar, his face was smoothed and lineless.  “What is he, like 25?”

Blue nodded.  “At most.”  She smirked.  “He’s cute too.”

“Wait,” Shade said.  She crouched down to get a closer look.  She lifted his hair off his forehead.  “My god, do you know who this is?”

“No clue,” Blue said.  

Trix met Shade’s eyes.  She was almost expecting a snide look and a tale about a really good screw.  Shade liked the young, pretty ones after all.  But that expression wasn’t fucking around.

“Guys,” she said, her voice low.  “This is their head guy.  I sold them some scrap synth parts I found and this guy had to approve letting me in the airport.”  She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her forehead furrowed.  “ _Maxson?_   Yeah, that’s it.  Elder Maxson.”

Blue raised an eyebrow.  “Elder huh? Seems pretty young for an Elder.”  She shrugged.  “Shit.  So he’s important.  Think we should do something?”

“These guys have a whole fortress south of here.  My mom told me about them when I was a kid,” Shade continued.  “This guy is definitely worth something, even if he did totally cock everything up here.  Worth more than this power armor anyway.”

Power armor was the singularly most valuable thing in the Commonwealth.  If this guy was worth more?

“Damn,” Trix said.   No point in wasting anything valuable, especially a piece of hot ass they could ransom for a fortune.  “Guess we better keep him alive.”


	2. Smoking Ruin

Deciding to take Maxson to Goodneighbor was easy; getting him there was another matter entirely.  By the time they dragged his sorry ass through the gates on their makeshift stretcher, they were covered in blood and filth and nearly out of ammo.

Luckily, they had packs overflowing with enough salvage to fill their pockets with caps and bullets and their bloodstreams with chems and booze.  But first things first; no point in all the aching joints and bullshit if he died.  Maxson was the real prize.

 _Elder fucking Maxson._ Trix didn’t know much about the Brotherhood except what Shade told her on the way.  Apparently they were _the_ big deal in the Capital Wasteland and out on the west coast.  No one else had nearly so many resources or as much experience hanging on to it as they did.  Other groups rose and fell, came and went but the Brotherhood just kept coming back.  Shade didn’t know whether this guy was all that special, but he was special enough to be leading a whole division when he was still practically a kid.  That had to mean something.

Trix was counting the caps in her head already.

They left him with Doc Amari.  She usually just fucked with people’s heads, but she was the best they had.  She was cautiously optimistic he’d make it since he’d survived the blood loss.  That was assuming he didn’t get some wicked infection and he actually woke up.  No way to know if he’d hit his head hard enough to scramble his brains until he regained consciousness.

Amari kicked them out with orders to not return until the next afternoon.  Plenty of time to relax and enjoy being alive.  Had to take those opportunities wherever you could.

They got a room at the Rexford and managed to wash off the worst of the blood splatter.  Shade was on the bed cross legged, combing her hair.  Blue was lining her eyes with black, trying to keep the lines straight as she looked at her reflection in the shards of a broken mirror.  Trix sat by the window, watching smoke artfully spiral off the end of her cigarette.

“So you got any idea how we’re gonna get in touch with the Brotherhood, see if they want him back?”  Trix asked, looking over at Shade.  

Shade paused with the comb halfway through her hair.  “Not sure,” she said.  She slid the comb down through the end of her hair.  “I figured we could send a letter with one of Daisy’s caravans maybe.  She’ll be a go between for us if we give her a cut.”

“Fuck,” Blue groused.  She turned around and leaned back against the table.  “We gotta pay Amari, Daisy...hell, probably have to cut the Mayor in or he’ll make our lives hell.  There won’t be anything left.”

“There’ll be plenty,” Shade said.  She set her comb down on her knee.  “I think this guy is important.”

“Besides,” Trix said, “you don’t have to worry about Hancock.  You know he’s fair.”

“Just because you want to fuck him doesn’t mean he’s not gonna want a cut,” Blue said.  She shook her head.  “He’s not that stupid.”

Trix shrugged.  “Even if he does?  Like Shade said, probably won’t matter.”  She frowned.  “We better decide on a number.”

“Let’s wait to see if he’s actually alive tomorrow,” Blue said.  “I need a fucking drink.”

“That’s the best plan I’ve heard all night.”  Shade said.  She got up off the bed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.  “The Third Rail?”

Blue snorted.  “Where else?”

Trix pulled a tin of Mentats out of her pocket and popped one in her mouth.  She offered the tin to Shade who shook her head.  

“Ooo sharing,” Blue said, butting in and taking a tablet.  She tucked it under her tongue.  “What’s gotten into you?”

“That depends on who offers first,” Trix smiled, getting to her feet.  She snapped the tin shut and tucked it back into her pocket.  

Shade laughed.  “Let’s go get fucked up.”

* * *

 

The Third Rail was a wild place.  It was loud, raucous.  Magnolia was always singing her sweet ass off and shaking it too.  It was one of the few places in the Commonwealth where a girl could stop worrying about bullshit and just have a good time.  Usually the noise rolled up the stairs and you could hear the party before Ham even let you in.  

Tonight there was a soft strain of music, but that was it.  Trix didn’t like it.

Ham crossed his arms over his chest.  “Private party tonight,” he said.  He cocked his head.  “But I know Hancock’s got a soft spot for you three.”  He frowned. “Hang on.”

He disappeared down the stairs.

Blue leaned up against the doorway, crossing her ankles. “Wonder what this is about.”

“Figures,” Shade said. She smoothed her hands down the front of her faded grey shirt. It had been blue once and she brushed at a spot of dye that hadn't completely worn away. “I hope Hancock isn't a dick and lets us in. I need a drink and I don't wanna settle for the moonshine at the Rexford.”

“That shit will make you go blind,” Trix agreed.

“Fuck blind,” Shade bitched. “It tastes like it was strained through a rat’s asshole.”

“That too.”  Trix rubbed her finger across her eyebrow.  Her head hurt.

Ham’s footsteps clicked up the stairs.  He grumbled at them before he even got to the top.  “Go on,” he said, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. “But don't be fucks. No one down there is in the mood for bullshit.”

Blue mock saluted him and he rolled his eyes.  

“This is what I fucking mean, ladies.”

“Loosen up Ham,” Blue said, flashing him a grin.  “We’ll be good. Scout’s honor.”

“ _Very_ good, “ Shade added.  “But only if they ask very nicely and buy me a drink first.”

Trix snickered.  Ham was completely unimpressed.

“Just get out of my face,” he grumbled.  

“Aw,” Trix purred, finally getting into the spirit of things.  She reached out like she was going to stroke Ham’s cheek.  “But it's such a nice face.”

He batted her hand away. “Save it for Hancock.”

Trix put her hands in her pockets, grinning and headed down the stairs.  No point in getting a buttstock to the mouth.

Things looked pretty grim at the bar.  The place was mostly empty, just a few sad sacks sitting on stools, nursing drinks like sick babies at a tit.  Magnolia wasn't singing, just sitting the the corner of a couch with her legs curled under her, swirling some whiskey in a glass.  She gave them a small, half smile as they passed but turned back to her drink before anyone had a chance to say anything.

Hancock was leaning up against the corner of the bar, his elbow on the edge and his head in his hand.  His hat was cocked low of his head, covering his eyes.  Beside him was a wiry man in a torn white tee shirt, his black pompadour hair disheveled.  He didn't turn around to look.  The man beside him was wearing a ragged old duster and he had his head cradled in his arms, one hand still wrapped around a half empty bottle of beer.  

“Damn boys,” Blue blurted out.  “Who died?”

The man in the tee shirt groaned and hung his head.  

Hancock tipped his hat back. “Entirely more people than anyone expected.”

Blue cringed. “Shit, sorry.”

Hancock waved his hand at her.  “Don't worry about it.  Glad you’re here,” he said.  “Trix, Blue, Shade.” He smiled as he rattled off their names, charming as ever.  Hancock knew everyone who passed through Goodneighbor and they were there more often than most.  They helped keep Daisy and Kleo stocked and that was enough that Hancock overlooked their methods of acquiring said stock.  He wasn’t into stealing shit but he wasn’t above letting Goodneighbor profit from it either. ”We could use the distraction. It's been a shitty couple days.”

“Fuck,” the man in the duster snarled, punctuating his cursing by slamming his beer bottle against the bar.  His head snapped up.  “I mean damn it … I mean _darn_ …”. He groaned and put his head down again.  “Just kill me.” His voice was muffled by his sleeve.

“Don’t mind him either,” the man in the tee shirt said, finally turning around to look at them.  He had big aviator sunglasses that hid most of his face.  “We’re all completely screwed up and screwed over.”  He plastered a blaringly forced smile on his face and held out a glass.  “I'm Deacon.  Wanna drink?”

Blue took it hesitantly.  “Sorry man,” she repeated.  Deacon shrugged.

He jerked his thumb at the guy beside him.  “That's Mac and he’ll currently sell you his soul for a cigarette.  He’s all out.”

“ _MacCready_ ,” he corrected Deacon, lifting his head off his arms and turning to look at them.  “But he’s right about the rest.”

Shade reached into the pocket of Trix’s flannel shirt before she had a chance to react, extracting a smoke without even disturbing the fabric. She deftly flipped it in her fingers and slid it into the corner of MacCready’s mouth.

He raised an eyebrow but wasn’t about to turn it down.  “Thanks,” he said around the cigarette, grabbing in his own pocket for a lighter.  He flicked it open and lit it in one motion.  

“You’re welcome,” Shade said, smiling on one corner of her mouth.  “MacCready was it?”  Trix resisted the urge to laugh.   She wondered how long it would take Shade to get this poor bastard out of his pants.

He nodded and took a long drag off his smoke. “But you can call me whatever you want.”

_Apparently not long at all._

“So, exactly what happened?” Blue asked, taking a sip from the glass Deacon gave her without flinching. “I mean, people die every day around here.”

“That's true,” Deacon said.  He leaned his elbows back on the top of the bar.  He made a pained sound as he continued.  “But usually not everyone you know in one day.”

“Vague as ever, brother,” Hancock said.  “No point in dodging around the truth now.”

Deacon sighed. “Old habits.”

“Our _friend_ ,” MacCready sneered the word, “turned out to be working for the boogeyman.”

They all knew who that was.  

“Wiped out the Railroad,” Hancock said, point blank. “Sure you've heard of them.”

“Yeah,” Shade said.  She kept her ear to the ground.  Sometimes Trix swore she knew everything. “They broke synths free.”

“Amongst other things,” Deacon added. “But the Institute wiped them out for good this time.”

“And we’re sure you heard the Brotherhood of Steel go boom,” Hancock said.  “They weren't my favorite people, but fuck, even I thought that was over the top and I stab people for fun.”

“Yeah,” Trix said sheepishly.  “About that…”

Hancock would have raised an eyebrow if he had any.  

“We were there,” she went on.  “Right after it happened.  And there's-”  She paused. frowning. “We found something.”

Deacon looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Well that doesn't sound ominous or anything.”

“Well?” Hancock asked with a look that meant he was going to find out whether they wanted to share or not.

Trix knew Hancock a little at least.  She knew his reputation better, but these other two were an unknown quantity.  This wasn't the sort of thing she was gonna spill to just anyone.  

“Right,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t end up on his shit list for this.  That was not a healthy place to be.  “About that. Could we talk about that somewhere private?”

Hancock grinned. “If you want to get me alone, you just have to ask.”

Trix crossed her arms over her chest.  “Anyone ever call that bluff Hancock?”

He only continued to grin.  She sure as hell wasn’t going to test him.


	3. Hedonistic Respites

Hancock was not fucking happy.

Despite softening the blow with half a tin of Mentats chased with a healthy swallow of vodka, there was now a vein pulsing in his temple.  The fact that she could see it through the deep ridges of his skin meant she was in some seriously deep shit.

But at least he didn’t pull a knife; not yet anyway.

“Are you completely fucked?”

Trix bit her tongue instead of letting her snark fly.  She decided to appeal to his self interest instead.

“Someone was going to find him,” she said.  “Might as well be someone who’ll cut you in on the deal.”

Hancock wasn’t evenly slightly convinced.  “Why didn’t you just put a bullet in him and be done with it?  Asshole like that isn’t going to be anything but trouble.”

“The Brotherhood has got to have plenty of caps and a guy like this….”

“Let their ugly floating lead weight get blown out of the sky,” Hancock interrupted.  He leaned back against the wall, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  “What makes you thinks he’s worth more than a pinch of shit to anyone? Besides, they’re more likely to barge in with their laser pistols and power armor and just take him than they are to pay you for him.”

“Have a little faith,” Trix said.  “We’ve pulled off bigger scores before.”

“No.”  Hancock was deadpan.  “You haven’t.”  He rubbed his hand across the front ridge of his hat.  “Look Trix, I like you but this is just asking for a heap of bullshit and bullets to come raining down on Goodneighbor.  He can’t stay here.”

“Fuck,” Trix grumbled.  “What am I supposed to do?  He’s unconscious and Amari is going to have a serious problem if I just waltz in there and blow his brains out.”  She sighed and turned her back to him.  Maybe she was getting soft, but _damn_ she was going to have a problem with it herself.  “He’s just a kid Hancock.  You couldn’t have done it either.”

“The hell I wouldn’t.”  He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.  Before she caught her balance, he pinned her against the wall.  “That asshole was a tyrant and I don’t stand for fucking tyrants.  I put up with your bullshit, you and Blue and Shade; I let you in here when I know you do shit out there that’s not right.  I put up with you because you do more good than harm and you know how to have a good time.  You don’t get in my way.  But I’m not going to stand for shit like this.  Don’t forget who’s in charge of Goodneighbor.”  He leaned his weight in against her, his forearm just below her throat.  

She wasn’t stupid enough to not be afraid.  Hancock killed people for less.

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll give you a week.  Either you get him on his feet and you drag him out of here or you put a fucking bullet in his skull.  I don’t care which.  But pick one before I have to get unfriendly.”  His black eyes bored in her.  “You feel me sister?”

Trix swallowed hard.  “I feel you.”

His entire demeanor shifted back to his usual jovial manner as suddenly as he turned on her.  He let up the pressure on his forearm but kept her pinned against the wall.  Hancock smirked on one corner of his mouth.

“Good.”  He put his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to look at him.  He wasn’t much taller than she was and he seemed much smaller than he had only moments before when he took up the entire goddamn room.  “If you promise to be a good girl, maybe we can have a nice chat about whether or not I was bluffing.”

_At least it wasn’t a total loss._

 

* * *

 

Blue found a bottle of the good bourbon stashed behind the bar, but she wasn’t interested in the booze.  She suspected it was going to be a delicate balancing act of getting Deacon drunk enough to lose his pants while keeping him sober enough for it to be worth the effort.  He could keep on the sunglasses.  

She had plenty of experience in this particular trick and Deacon did seem to be pacing himself.  Blue was encouraged by the way his eyes followed her.  

Shade, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be having the same luck.  MacCready was already drunk as hell and he was the only other option now that Magnolia had disappeared into the back room.  Too bad really.  She was twice as much fun on her worst day than either of these two looked.  Blue disguised her smirk as a smile at Deacon.  No point in wasting that nice memory.

MacCready did already have his head in Shade’s lap though, so who knew.  Blue wasn’t going to waste any more time on it.  She had a mission.  Deacon was watching her over the rim of his glass in silence.  She got the impression he was making all sort of careful observations about her.  She almost laughed.  Blue learned that trick from better liars than him.

“So Blue,” he said, “What brings you to Goodneighbor?”

Odd question.  He already knew she wasn’t going to tell him.  

“We live here,” she said.  It was true, to a point.  Daisy let them use the storage and beds over her shop that she didn’t need.  Well, _let them_ for much better prices on the scrap they brought back that Kleo didn’t buy first.

A faint line appeared between his eyebrows and disappeared quickly.  “Really?” He tried to sound nonplussed but that fleeting expression told Blue everything.  He figured out she was telling the truth but it surprised him.  He thought he knew everyone in Goodneighbor.  “I’m surprised we haven’t met before.”

Blue shrugged.  “We’re out and about a lot.  There’s plenty of adventure to be had in the Commonwealth if you know where to look.”

“If by adventure you mean getting shot at by super mutants and bitten by ferals, I completely agree.”

_He was so full of shit.  He loved it out there._

Blue put her hand on his knee.  He flinched almost imperceptibly for a heartbeat but then he relaxed almost too much into her touch.  

_Interesting._  He didn’t do this sort of thing, she figured that out first thing.  But apparently having all his friends die shifted his perspective.  If Blue was a better woman, she wouldn’t have taken advantage.

“That’s only one sort of adventure.  Some are a lot more pleasant,” Blue purred.  She squeezed her fingers and slid them up his thigh.  Deacon slid his sunglasses down just enough so she could see his blue eyes as he peered at her over the top of them.

Pretty eyes.

_Good thing she wasn’t a better woman._

It was right about then that the unmistakable sound of wet, enthusiastic sex faded in from the backroom.  Deacon blinked and raised an eyebrow.  Blue chuckled.

_Way to go, Trix._

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Deacon said blandly.  

Blue shook her head, grinning.  “Hancock never gave me the impression he was the type to not back up his innuendo.”

“What about you?” Deacon’s eyes flicked down.  Blue’s hand was halfway up his thigh now.  There was a tiny hole worn through the denim and her middle finger poked inside to gently stroke skin.

“I never bluff,” she said.  That was a lie too, but not at the moment.

Deacon cocked his head.  “I’m not big on audiences.”  He crinkled his forehead.  “For anything really.”

“I’m okay either way,” Blue admitted, noting how that particular confession made the front of Deacon’s pants tighten comically.  “But I hear the alley is lovely this time of year.”

 

* * *

 

Blue was amazed they both managed to get off by some furious and vigorous screwing before MacCready burst into the alley to projectile vomit.  It was actually impressive, epic distance all the way across the broken pavement to splatter against the wall.  Would have been more interesting if she’d not had her pants around one ankle and Deacon’s swiftly wilting cock still inside her, but she still had to give him props for spectacle.

Deacon had his pants back on and his cock tucked safely away before she even had the sense of mind to close her legs.  She was shimmying her jeans over the curve of her ass when Shade appeared out of the shadows.  She was surprisingly maternal towards MacCready, her pale fingers stroking his back softly.  Then again, Blue remembered when...she let that thought go.  She was too comfortably satisfied to go picking at old wounds.  

MacCready had moved on to dry heaving now.

“That poor bastard,” Deacon said.  He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. He offered the pack to Blue as she smoothed her ragged tank top down over the waist of her jeans.  She took one and lit it from the glowing tip of Deacon’s cigarette.

Blue shook her head.  “Not the best way to cope.”

Deacon shrugged with one shoulder.  “I don’t think you can cope with what he’s been through.  Lost his wife, sick kid.  Our…,” he paused and made a derogatory grunt, “ _friend_ promised to help him find a cure and apparently, he also promised a bunch of other things to get access to MacCready’s pants.”  Deacon flicked an ash hard enough that Blue heard the click of the paper filter.  “Instead he fucked off to join the Institute and left him hanging.  Kid probably died by now.”

“Fuck,” Blue muttered.  By now, Shade had MacCready sitting on a crate, gently sipping at a Nuka-Cola.  She was holding his hat and brushed his hair out of his eyes.  For a person who Blue had watched gut a man without flinching, Shade was surprisingly gentle.  It’s why she trusted her, anyway.  Blue sighed, the afterglow from her orgasm fading.  

It never lasted as long these days; not the sex, the chems, the booze.  It was even more temporary than before, those little hedonistic respites from the bullshit.  Blue was starting to understand why people got so hooked on the Memory Den.  Eventually, only the memories were gonna last long enough to feel good.

Blue hadn’t expected to live this long.  She wondered how much worse it would get before it was over.

“Hey,” Deacon’s voice caught her off guard.  She startled, turning to look at him.  The curve of his eyebrows appeared over the rim of his sunglasses.  He was still wearing them, even in the pitch black.  “You alright?”

“Is anyone alright these days?” she asked.  Deacon snorted knowingly in reply.


	4. Like Your Ass is on Fire

Morning was like a punch in the face.

Trix hadn’t really expected to wake up and find Hancock still there but he hadn’t moved except to yank his pants up.   _So my skinny ass doesn’t get cold_ , he said and then snuggled up against her back and fell asleep.  It wasn’t a romantic gesture, she knew that, but it was nice.  She supposed there was a variety of reasons half the women in Goodneighbor were chasing after the mayor and it wasn’t just what was in his pants.

Not that it wasn’t a damn fine reason.

Even so, warm body pressed up against her ass or not, it had been a lot easier to forget she had only seven days to figure out what the hell to do with Maxson last night.  A part of her considered wriggling against the sleepy erection behind her, but that wasn’t going to actually solve anything.  Instead, she crawled out from under Hancock’s arm and stumbled to her feet.  He didn’t wake, just groaned a little in his sleep before rolling over and burying his face into the back of the couch.

He was fun but she had shit to do.  And it was his fault too, the blowhard.  

Trix didn’t bother trying to fix her hair or look like she hadn’t been fucked and put away wet.  That was a lost cause.  Instead, she lit a cigarette.  Her worn boots were quiet against the tile floor as she made her way to the bar.  The distinct bitter tang of coffee hung in the air.  Charlie floated behind the bar, a steam pot in one of his many mechanical hands.

“Morning mum,” he said in his clipped, artificial accent.  He poured the coffee into a chipped mug without asking.  He produced a bottle of whiskey from another arm and gestured over the bar.  “Little hair of the dog?”

Trix closed her eyes and nodded.  She wasn’t hungover, but being buzzed when she told Shade and Blue her good news couldn’t hurt.  Charlie slid the mug across the bar. Trix took a sip, the too hot coffee scalding her mouth.  She didn’t flinch.

Blue appeared out of the back room with wet hair.  She looked surprisingly perky, all things considered.  “Morning sunshine,” she said.  She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.  “You see that?”

Trix glanced back over her shoulder.  On the couch behind her, Shade was sleeping sitting up, MacCready’s head in her lap and on her shoulder, a shock of red hair...shit was that...?

“Cait?” Trix turned her head, eyes wide.  “Is that Cait and Shade in the same room and no one is dead?”

Blue shrugged.  “Sure as hell looks like her, but she wasn’t here when I fell asleep.”

Trix took her pistol out of the holster on her thigh and set it on the bar next to her coffee mug.  Blue chuckled knowingly.

“If they wake up with regrets, I don’t think you’ll be in their line of fire.”

Trix grunted.  “If I put a hole in the wall, maybe they’ll not tear each other’s throats out with their teeth.”

“I think Hancock might be annoyed if you shoot up his bar.”

“He can put it on the list.”

Blue’s eyebrows drew together quizzically.  She propped her elbow on the bar and set her head in her hand.  “He didn’t sound annoyed when you were fucking the shit out of him last night.”

“Yeah, well, he’s fickle.” Trix rubbed her hand over her face and took another drink.  “He’s pissed about you-know-who.”  

“No shit,” Blue snarked.  “You had to see that coming.”

“I figured he’d get over it once we started talking caps, but he didn’t go for it.”

Blue sat up, flexing her shoulder blades before setting both her palms on her thighs.  “So now what?”

“We have a week to either get him out of Goodneighbor or put a bullet in his head.”  Trix took a long drag of her cigarette and blow smoke up towards the ceiling.  “He doesn’t think we can pull it off, or that…”  Trix paused, reminded of the grimace on Maxson’s face as he tried to surface out of unconsciousness.  “Hancock doesn’t think they’ll even want him back.  Shade was probably right.  Should have killed him before….” She trailed off.

_Before what?  Before they all realized he was cute and twenty and what? Maybe Hancock was right too.  She was beginning to wonder if she’d royally fucked the pooch this time._

“Eh,” Blue said.  “We’ll figure something out.  Caps or whatever, he’s entirely too fine a piece of ass to just shoot.”

“Speaking of fine ass.” Trix decided to use that segue.  No point in talking about it more until Shade was awake and hopefully didn’t decide to have a fistfight with Cait.  “Where’s Deacon?”

“He left about an hour ago,” Blue said.  “Said he was heading over to Diamond City.”  She grinned.  “He was lying.  He is pretty good at it.  He would have fit in well.”  The corner of her mouth shifted down instead.  “Better than I did anyway.”

“Huh,” Trix grunted.  She took another drag off her cigarette.  Maybe that was an idea...if the damn place wasn’t on the other side of the Commonwealth.  That did put a kink in the idea.  If Maxson was in good enough condition to get there on foot, he was going to fight them every step of the way.  And if he wasn’t?  Well, dragging him part way through the city was one thing.  Getting him through the wasteland was something else entirely.

Blue gave her a look.  “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of taking him there?”

Trix shrugged.  Blue didn’t look happy.  

“Ow.”  Cait’s voice cut through the silence.  “I think I pulled a muscle or somethin’.”

They both tensed.  They remembered the last time they saw Cait.  

The Combat Zone was a hellhole and one of the best places in the Commonwealth.  It was six months ago since they left, all because of the shit that went down.  They’d worked out of there for three, maybe four months.  It was a great location, central to the city with lots of drunk raiders plenty dumb enough to overpay for ammo and guns.  They made a lot of caps there.

Shade and Cait were close, very very close.  Shit, Tommy probably could have made more caps putting the two of them on display instead of the fights.  But then Shade found out about the Psycho and, well, everything went to hell.

It was a damn shame they had to leave.

“Cait,” Blue said, slipping down off the stool.  She leaned against the bar casually, tucking a hand in her back pocket.  Trix knew that was where she always kept her switchblade.  “What brings you here?”

“Came to see if the rumors were true,” she said.  “Looks like they are.”

MacCready groaned in Shade’s lap.  “God Cait, do you have to talk so loud?”

Cait laughed bitterly.  “Too bad you can’t hold your liquor or you could be a lot of fun.”

He swallowed hard.  “Don’t even say it.”

“Say what?”  Cait smirked and her volume went up.  “Liquor?”

MacCready rolled off Shade’s lap on to the floor.  He gagged.

“Don’t you dare throw up on my boots,” Shade muttered, voice still slurred with sleep, eyes still closed.  “Again.”

MacCready lurched to his feet and ran up the stairs towards the door like his ass was on fire.  Might have been.  That was usually the next step after the heaving.

Cait chuckled.  She and Shade made tentative eye contact.  Trix tensed.  Blue’s fingers wrapped around the handle of her knife.

“You have a good sleep?” Cait asked.  Her voice was softer, almost lilting now.  

Shade didn’t quite smile, but she didn’t frown either.  “I’ve had worse.”  She looked up at Trix and Blue.  Her face was expressionless for a few heartbeats and then she laughed.

“You two look like you’re expecting the Gunners.”  She laughed again.  “We aren’t going to fight.  Cait came looking for help.”

“I did,” she said.  “I was hoping for a shortcut, but looks like that’s not goin’ ta happen.”

Shade put her hand on Cait’s knee.  “I got through it.  You can too.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”  Cait grimaced.

“It was true then too,” Shade said.  Trix gave Blue a look.  They both remembered how that went.  “Just need to give it more time.  I’m sure Hancock….”

Hancock cut her off from the doorway.  “I’m sure the honorable and handsome Mayor Hancock is not in the mood for anything involving Cait.”  He had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh come on, Hancock,” Cait drawled.  “Give a girl a break.”

Hancock didn’t bother with a reply.  He turned to Trix instead.  “If you haven’t told them, no time like the present.”

“I will, just let everyone wake up and shit first, okay?”

Unfolding his legs, Hancock crossed the room and put his hand on Trix’s shoulder.   “Last night was fun,” he said.  “We should do it again some time, provided you’re a good girl.”  He kissed her on the cheek and headed toward the door.  His boots clicked and echoed up the tiles stairs as he disappeared.

“Lucky bitch,” Blue muttered.

“What’s this about being good?” Shade interjected.  Her hand was still on Cait’s knee and Cait’s head was against her shoulder.   

Trix took a deep breath.  She considered.  Whatever other issues Cait had, she wasn’t a squealer.  Trix powered ahead.  “Hancock took the news about who we brought here about as well as you’d suspect.”  Shade frowned hard.  “He gave us a week to get him out of here, either on foot or in a box.”

“I told you,” Cait said, elbowing Shade.  

“Well, that’s helpful,” Blue snapped.  Cait promptly shut her mouth.  “Shit, what’re we gonna do now?”

Trix shook her head.  “I don’t know, probably put a bullet in him.”

“What, we dragged his heavy ass all the way from the airport and now you want to fucking shoot him?” Shade was pissed.  “The fuck you are.  You said he was worth caps.  I want some fucking caps and we need somewhere to lay low anyway.  So let’s find a place.”

“What about the Combat Zone?” Blue asked.  

Cait sat up and shook her head.  “It’s not what it was,” she said.  “That bastard Nate came in and shot up the place.  It’s why I left; Tommy gave my contract to him.”

Trix could see the muscle in Shade’s jaw twitch from across the room.  “The whole contract?”

Cait chuckled.  “Of course.”  She shrugged.  “But you know me.  Why, are you jealous?”

Shade refused to answer.

Blue grunted, sitting down again.  “I’m out of ideas.”  

“I can only think of one,” Trix admitted.  “But I don’t know how we’d ever get there.  Hancock was right about one thing -- if we tell the Brotherhood we have Maxson, they aren’t going to pay up if they think they can just take him.  We need to go somewhere that will give even the Brotherhood pause and it sure as hell isn’t Goodneighbor or the Combat Zone.”  Trix dropped what was left of her cigarette on the floor and hopped off her stool, crushing it out under the toe of her boot.  “We need to get to Nuka-World.”

“Fuck,” Blue muttered.  “Assuming the gangs don’t kill us on sight, do you remember how far that is?”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.  We can’t drag his ass that far.”  Trix sighed.  “I figure we could get him to the old city limits at best.  And then?”

“We could try a caravan?”

“Death sentence.” Cait didn’t mince words.  

Trix glared at her.  “Since when do you get an opinion?”  She was right, but that was beside the point.

“Since I fucking said so,” Shade snapped.  “And since I’m gonna solve this stupid problem against my better judgement.”

“How?” Blue asked.  

Shade’s lips pursed. “Ever go for a ride in a vertibird?”  

“A fucking vertibird?  Hell yeah, sign me up,” Blue said.  “But how you gonna get us one?”

“I know a guy.”  

Trix rolled her eyes.  “ _You know a guy?_  This is your plan?”

“Trust me, for fucks sake.”  Shade leaned forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.  “I trusted you and you got us into this mess.  Now I’m going to get us out...well, get us to the parking lot of Nuka-World.  After that, it’ll be up to you.”

“Think they’ll even let us in,” Blue asked, “After how we left without a word?”

The corner of Trix’s mouth twisted, unable to decide on an expression.  “Maybe.  Probably.”  She sighed.  “Mason is still my big brother after all.”

Blue’s grin was lewd.  “He sure is.”

Trix scowled.  “Fuck Blue, gross.”

Blue laughed.  

“Alright,” Trix sighed. “You get us there, I’ll get us in.”

“And then I’ll get in Mason’s pants,” Blue added.  “Again.”

Cait was the only one who laughed.


	5. Bargains and Bullet Wounds

“He is awake,” Amari said, not looking up from her terminal. Her dark hair was disheveled and her skin looked sallow.  She must have been awake all night watching Maxson.  “But he is not entirely coherent.”  She tapped a few more keys and then paused, staring down at her slender fingers.  She pursed her lips.  “Exactly what do you intend to do with him?”

Trix furrowed her brow.  “Does it matter?”

Amari looked up over her shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot.  “He doesn’t even know where he is.  It wouldn’t….” She paused again and looked down.  Her shoulders slumped.  “I know who he is, as does he.  I don’t like the idea of saving his life just for someone to end it.”

“Look, Amari,” Trix said.  She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. She was tired of being second-guessed, even if she was zero for one already.  “We dragged him all the way from the airport and fought off a dozen super mutants to get him here.  My first instinct isn’t to kill him.”

Amari straightened, crossed her arms over her chest.  “Hancock was here earlier.”

“Ah.”  Trix frowned. She scratched her head under the edge of her knit hat.  It was really too hot in here for it. “So you know then? Will he be okay to move in time?”

“No.” Amari sighed. “Yes,” she admitted.  “He should be able to be on his feet in a few days, but I can’t recommend it.”

“It’s not like we have a choice.”

Amari looked defeated.  “Will you at least follow some basic care, once you take him wherever it is you’re planning on going?”

“If I can.  Best I can do.”  Trix had already put more effort into this than she’d really planned on, but it was either that or a bullet.  She wasn't entirely sure she still shouldn't do it.

Amari waved her away.  “Fine.  He’s downstairs if you wish to speak with him, but be brief.  He needs rest.”

Trix didn’t wait for a better invitation.  Her fingers felt itchy.  There was a very big part of her that just wanted this to be over.  She was beginning to think no caps were worth this.  She made her way through the hall and towards the stairs, leaving the red brocade and whore house aestetic behind her.  The air became slightly damp and the old cement block wall was cool as she dragged her fingertips over the surface.

She was glad for the solitude.  Shade was off trying to...do whatever she had planned to get them their vertibird and Blue headed back to their stash to put together supplies.  It was their idea to split up and Trix was glad for the diversion.  Blue was very good at persuasion; Shade was a master of being intimidating but neither seemed the right place to start.  Trix wasn’t any less likely to put a bullet in someone than either of them, but she hoped she’d be less threatening on her own.  

She turned the corner and spotted Maxson.  Amari was using a memory lounger as a makeshift bed, the glass top flipped open.  There were tubes in his arms; a bag of blood, another of some clear fluid slowly dripping into him.  His shoulders were bare, poking up underneath a threadbare blanket.

 _Fuck me._ His shoulders were broad and muscular and decorated with bands of keloid scars to match the one on his face. His arms were ridiculous, like something straight out of a Grognak comic.  

Amari had cleaned him up, wiped away the ash and soot, the blood.  He was pale, with dark rings under his closed eyes, but there was a slight flush of pink in his cheeks above the heavy growth of his beard.  Trix was sure as fuck not a doctor, but that looked like a good sign.  He looked better than the last time she saw him anyway.

_A little too good, really. He was damn pretty._

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of her footsteps.  He squinted at her, as if he was having trouble focusing his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked.  His voice was deep and commanding.  He was used to having his requests immediately attended to, with a voice like that.  She tried to ignore how it felt like he was talking directly to her clitoris.

“Hey,” she said, avoiding the question until she thought of a good answer.  “How are you feeling?”

He closed his eyes and sighed irritably.  “Weak.  Little dizzy,” he admitted.  “But I can stay awake now.  The doctor says it’s normal, considering.”

Trix had told Amari the basics of what happened in case it was relevant to keeping him breathing.  She wondered if she told him.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Some.  I remember the synths; a battle.  I don’t…”  He turned his eyes up to look at her and they seemed to focus finally.  They were pale grey, cool against the broken bloodshot whites.  “I failed.”

Trix quirked her mouth.   _At least he remembered shitting the bed._  “Yeah, it didn’t go well.  You’re the only survivor we found.”

He turned his eyes up towards the ceiling but said nothing.  He swallowed and she watched with perverse interest at the way his thick muscular throat moved when he did it.  She cleared her throat and grabbed the chair from the desk to force herself to look away.  She dragged it next to the pod, straddling it.  

“You never answered my question.”

_He was persistent.  So much for confused._

“I’m the one who found you, brought you here.  My friends and I.”  Might as well start with something mostly true.  She wasn't as good of a liar as Blue was and she needed him to cooperate.  She couldn’t risk him trying to escape.  “Name’s Trix.”

He turned his head to the side, wincing.  Looked like everything hurt.  He was not going to enjoy their little field trip unless she hopped him up with a fat dose of Med-X.  That might make him a bit more pliable at least.  “Thank you then,” he said, which made her cringe.  

Trix sniffed, the musty scent of the basement mixed with antiseptic and sweat making her wrinkle her nose.  “Right.  You’re welcome, I guess.”

“I’m….”  He started as if to introduce himself and then he paused and considered.  “Paladin Krieg.”

Trix snorted.  “No you’re not.” He was an even worse liar than she was.  “No point in pretending.  We know who you are, Elder Maxson.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and turning his face back towards the ceiling.  She could feel it then.  He was _afraid._  Probably for good reason.  The Institute blew his ship out of the sky. They weren’t likely to leave it be, if they figured out he was still breathing.  Funny that the safest place for him was in the basement of a favorite haunt of the Railroad.  Well, safe now that they were all dead too.  

But he gave her an idea, a big fat idea just laid right at her feet.  They could use this.

“We aren’t going to rat you out to the Institute, if that’s what you’re worried about.  But we are going to have to get you somewhere safer than here.  They’ve put down a couple synths here already.  We need to get you somewhere even they don’t want to screw around with.”  It was true, so it was easy to sound sincere.

He didn't say anything for a while.  Trix couldn't help but just look at him.  She bet he grew that big beard to hide how young he was.  She was definitely older by far, but cradle robbing was always fun.  In the Commonwealth, life was hard and men her age were usually broken.  Injured or not, Maxson still looked pretty fresh. 

Even that scar was sexy. 

"Why are you helping me?”  She swallowed and looked at his eyes, hoping her pale cheek didn't give away her leering by blushing.  She wasn't embarrassed but it wasn't time to get caught appraising the merchandise just yet.

_Shit. There wasn't a good answer for this one._

Trix shrugged.  “Does it matter? We are helping.”

Maxson didn’t look convinced.  He tried to push himself up onto his elbows.  He made an involuntary grunt before giving up and settling on glaring at her instead.  “Your motivation is as important as what you do with it.”

He wasn’t going to like what was motivating her.  

She wasn’t completely sure what that was anymore anyway.  The entire idea of selling him back to the Brotherhood was beginning to look like a longshot at this point or at least entirely more work than any caps she’d get for him.  But something was stopping her from being practical; she just wasn’t sure what it was yet.

Whatever they did with him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to cooperate without a lot of long term _convincing_ and there was no time for that now.  That’s what Nuka World was for.  But until then, she had to punt.  She could already tell he wasn’t going to respond to intimidation.  He wasn’t going to respond to caps or chems or any of those other handy things she was used to using to get her way.

He might respond to sex, but not when it looked like it hurt to move his eyes.

“Look,” she said, just blundering ahead, “I don’t see that you have any other choice.  There’s a list of people who’d love to put a bullet into your pretty head.”  She snorted.  “You’ve got nothing left now but your good looks and your life.  We had plenty of chances to kill you.  Hell, we could have just left you there and if blood loss didn’t kill you, the the Commonwealth wildlife sure would have.  All I need you to do is not fight us while we get you somewhere safe.  Think you can manage it?”

“Fair enough,” he responded.  He didn’t even hesitate.  Trix did her best to hide her surprise.  “When do we leave?”

“Day or two,” she said, rolling with it.  “So try to rest because it’ll be a lot easier if you can at least walk.”

Maxson nodded and fell silent.  She could tell he didn’t trust her.  He’d be _stupid_ to trust her and he didn’t strike her as stupid.  Crazy maybe and from what she heard, probably a zealot but not stupid.

“I do have one question.”  She put her elbows on the back of the chair and rested her chin in her hands.  “I thought those Institute guys only used laser weapons. Whoever put the hole in you was using bullets.  If I had to guess, a large caliber rifle.”

Maxson’s face looked like a dog chewing a bee.  “ _Paladin Nate_ ,” he growled.  “I promoted him through the ranks, trusted him and he lead those bastards right up our ass.” He glared at her hard.  “So you’ll have to forgive me if I seem reluctant to trust.”

Trix smiled slowly.  He was bad at this.  He was entirely too honest for his own good.  That sort of thing was bound to be used against you.

“He wanted something from you,” she said, matter-of-fact.  “I don’t.”   _Blue would be proud of that lie, no doubt._

Maxson turned his eyes up to the ceiling.  “We’ll see.”

“Yes,” Trix said, not bothering to hide the dark, dirty smirk on her face now that he wasn’t looking.  “Yes, we will.”


	6. Med-X, Paladins and Deathclaws, Oh Fuck

“Fuck,” Trix muttered, “It was really hoping for too much that this would be simple.”

Shade shrugged, the bed creaking underneath her with even that small movement.  “What did you expect? That I could call a Gunner vertibird to land on the roof of Mayor Hancock’s office and we’d all have tea before flying off into the sunset?”

Blue snorted and mimicked holding a teacup with the round canister of her Jet, her pinky finger extended.  “How do you take your tea?” She paused dramatically.  “Motherfuckers?” she bowed, snickering.

Trix could see Shade grinning behind her hand but her face was deadpan when she finally lowered it and spoke.  “Two sugars, whiskey and a bullet.”  She managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds before her cheeks turned red and she barked a laugh.  Blue rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

“I’ll take mine without the bullets, if you’re taking orders,” Trix sighed, crossing her ankles as she leaned her weight against the door frame.  “Look guys, Maxson is a mess and he’s not likely to cooperate.  I’m gonna have to hop him up with Med-X to move him and if it makes him loopy, we might have a hard time keeping control of him.  The idea of having to drag him out to some remote wasteland nowhere isn’t exactly comforting.”

Blue flopped down on the bed next to Shade and a puff of dust floated up around them.  “What’s the worst that’ll happen?” she asked.  “If he gets away and gets killed by a randy radstag, we’ll just have more options on where we can take the vertibird.”  She smiled on one corner of her mouth.  “Going back to Nuka-World wouldn’t be terrible anyway.  I mean, we had it pretty good there.”

Trix furrowed her brow and crossed her arms across her chest.  Shade immediately whipped her head around to glare at Blue, just like Trix knew she would.  She could have set a clock by it.

“Yeah, it was great; caps, ass, cold blooded murder.  And if you don’t mind getting flayed alive.”  Shade’s voice reminded Trix of poison.  

Blue rolled her eyes.  “Look, you don’t know that was gonna happen to you.”

“I overheard Savoy and Dixie talking about me and you know how Savoy felt about me,” Shade said.  “They knew something was up.  They _knew_.”  Shade threw a look at Trix.  “Which is why the vertibird can only take us between points in the Wasteland.  Nisha won’t care if your brother is the Pack leader.  She will gut us all if she’s got even a hint we had help from the Gunners.  She’s got a long fucking memory.”

“Point taken,” Trix conceded, dropping her arm like a sigh. “Look, I know we have to work together to pull this off. I’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“Hey,” Blue said.  She grabbed Trix’s forearm.  “We’re all assholes and we always work together.  That’s why we aren’t dead.  And we’re gonna stay that way.  We’re a fucking team.”

“Right,” Shade said.  “That’s why we left together and that’s how we’re going back.  That’s the only reason I’m doing this.  I trust you bitches have my back.”  She smirked.  “And I have yours.”

“Fuckin’ right on,” Blue agreed.  “Nobody’s getting flayed on my watch.   _Laid_ maybe, but I never hear any complaints.”

Trix smirked. “You’re both right.”  She nodded.   _They were fucking right. They had this._  “All right, let’s go shoot some drugs into our knight in busted power armor and see what happens.”

***

Maybe they _had this_ but it was a still a fucking nightmare.

Maxson was fucking looped out of his skull.  They had to give him three doses of Med-X before he stopped groaning with every step and apparently the shit had a delayed reaction on him.  He was floppy and muttering and making no sense at all.  She could have fucked him in the ass with the barrel of Blue’s shotgun and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

He was pliable alright, but he also fell into a heap if they weren’t holding him up.  Progress was slow at best.

They made it north across the river to the edge of town without incident, past Bunker Hill and over another bridge where the buildings quickly spread out into fields and empty spaces. Trix was exhausted and her shoulders hurt from trying to keep Maxson standing.  Shade and Blue took turns helping her and watching for bullshit, weapons drawn.

There was a relay tower to the north; they could already see it in the distance.  It was a good spot for a pick up.  Remote, quiet but easy to spot from the air, or so Shade said.  Trix knew exactly fuck all about vertibirds.

They were making fairly good progress until the deathclaw.

Blue was walking a few feet in front of them, off-key humming “Crawl out through the Fallout”, scuffing her boots in the dirt.  She was only superficially distracted though.  Trix knew how she was.  She and Shade had Maxson propped up between them.  He’d stopped babbling and for the most part was shuffling along at more or less a steady pace.

The deathclaw came screaming out of nowhere with a set of high-end but damaged Power Armor chasing after him.  Well, _someone_ in Power Armor but with the helmet on, Trix couldn’t tell whether it was a man, a woman or god knows what.

You could never tell.

Trix’s first instinct was to drop Maxson and go for her gun, but Shade beat her to it.  Instead, she was stuck with him, yanking his bulk back, trying to find some cover before they got caught in the crossfire.  She found the shattered remains of a cement porch and a few scattered floor joists and dragged him behind it, popping up with her pistol over the top.

It was a blur in the dark.  Blue’s shotgun blasts mingled with the sharp crack of Shade’s sniper rifle and the new, unexpected addition of the zing of a laser rifle and the acrid smell of ozone.  The deathclaw screamed, but only once, before it crumbled into a heap.

A male voice barked out as a smoking, destroyed helmet hit the ground.  “Were you trying to kill me?”

“If I was trying to kill you,” Shade snapped back, “You’d be dead.”

 _Fuck._  The deathclaw didn’t kill anyone but Shade’s mouth might do the trick instead.  

Trix managed to drag Maxson back to his feet and yanked him forward, his head lolling and his face obscured by the hood of the sweatshirt they’d scrounged up for him.  “Hey,” Trix shouted.  It was a stand-off.  Shade was staring the guy down, her rifle not quite aimed at him but close enough.  Blue looked transfixed, staring at the newcomer like he was a slab of meat.

As Trix got closer, she could see why.  He was... _shit_.  Handsome, fucking intense and really, really pissed off.  All catnip to Blue.  Her too, but Blue saw him first.  They had a code.  She knew the drill.  

“Hey,” Trix repeated and this time got their attention.  “Listen, thanks for the assist.  That wasn’t…”

“I wasn’t trying to help you,” he interrupted her.  “I was hunting the deathclaw and you got in the way.”  The corner of his mouth twisted from his serious expression to a half smirk.  “I suppose I should thank you instead of being an asshole, but she shot my helmet and nearly took my head with it.”

“I was aiming at the claw, but you just had to jump your ass in right as I hit the trigger.  Not used to fighting with other people, are you?” Shade snarked.

The man frowned.  Snorted.  “Not anymore.  Got out of practice pretty quick.”  

Maxson started to mumble, his arm tensing over Trix’s shoulder.  “He’s...it’s a…”  His words were slurred and it was hard to make anything out but he was suddenly agitated, that much was obvious.

“What’s with him?”  Shade asked.  She looked over to Blue but she was still looking at the man as if she was plotting how to use a can opener to get into his armor.  Shade rolled her eyes.  “Anyway…”  She put her fingers under Maxson’s chin and tilted his head up.  “What’s your problem?  Med-X wearing off?”

He shook his head, sloppy, wobbly.  But apparently Shade’s help was just enough and he managed to turn his head towards the man in the power armor and growl at him.

“You,” Maxson muttered.  He flicked his eyes back to Shade.  “You should kill him, right now.”

“What?” Shade asked, frowning.  She and Trix both looked over at the same time.  “Why?”

“Abomi…. _abomination_ !” Maxson blurted out.  “It’s a _synth_.”

“He can’t be,” Blue said, seemingly to no one.

The man sighed.  “He’s right.”  He frowned harder, if that was even fucking possible, a deep furrow between his heavy brows.  “My name is Danse,” he said.  “Former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel and yes, I am a synth.”  He snorted.  “I’m also pretty drunk right now and still a better shot than any of you.  So, you want us to try to kill each other or do you want to tell me how he’s still alive?”  He rolled his shoulders back and it was a pretty amazing display in a set of power armor.  The joints creaked and he looked broad as a house.  “After all, I helped make the bomb that destroyed the Prydwen.  He should be ashes.”

“Well, fuck me,” Blue muttered.

Danse looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  There was nothing but serious in his expression when he spoke.  “Maybe later.”


	7. A Bullet to the Head

Trix wasn't entirely sure why Danse decided to join them. Maybe it was because Blue couldn't stop making sex eyes at him; maybe he just really want to stab a guy; maybe he was drunker than he let on.  Whatever it was, he accepted their explanation for how they found Maxson in the rubble of the Prydwen without comment and when they offered him a spot on the vertibird and in on their plans, he went for it.

Trix was pretty vague about their plans, but not to be tricky.  She still didn't have any goddamn idea how they were going to manage to turn this pissed off broken man into caps. Danse didn't seem particularly concerned about the details. He did like the idea of getting revenge.

“The fucker put a bullet in me," Danse snarled. “If he'd used his laser rifle, I'd be dead.” He snorted a completely mirthless laugh. “But the vengeful bastard wanted to hurt me. He wanted to make sure I suffered when I died. Instead I came to when his vertibird whipped dirt in my face.  I was a bloody wreck but alive.”

By now, Maxson was laying half on his side in the dirt, propped up against the leg of the relay tower.  He was pretty much unconscious. They had to give them another hit of Med-X to keep him from trying to claw Danse’s eyes out with his bare hands. But the sound of Danse's voice apparently managed to get through the drug-induced haze and he growled like a rabid dog.  Danse glared down at Maxson like he wanted to kick him.

He grunted. “I used to idolize him. He was younger than me but he seem to be the very epitome of what a Brotherhood soldier was supposed to be. “ The look on his face was deadly.  “When he shot me, I was actually kind of proud of him. It was exactly what he was supposed to do. I didn't even regret dying. It felt like the right thing to do.”

Trix raised her eyebrows at him and shot Blue a look.   _Was she really sure she wanted this guy?_ He seemed pretty fucked up, even by her standards. Blue wordlessly replied by shooting a look down at his ass.  Out of his power armor, Trix did have to admit, he was some fine scenery. Blue grinned.

Danse looked at Maxson as he continued, oblivious to their ogling. “Don't know what the fuck that bullet did to me, "he said. "But I was pretty fucking pissed off when I woke up.”

“Where exactly did he clip you?” Blue asked.

Danse didn't say anything, just leaned his head forward and pulled up the fringe of hair behind his ear.  On the lump of bone behind his ear there was a round, ragged lump of scar tissue, still pink and healing.

“How the fuck....?” Blue muttered.

He shrugged nonchalantly, smoothing his hair back down as he lifted his head. “I'm a synth,” he said. “Who knows?”

Trix was at a loss.  His brains were clearly mangled, but that didn’t really matter. They were all fucked up in one way or the other. What was one more?

Shade stood up out of the shadows on the other side of the tower just as a plume of blue smoke started spiraling up into the dark sky.  She had her arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted back to watch the smoke.

“Uh Shade,” Trix said, frowning. “Not to be a pain in the ass, but how the hell are they going to see dark blue smoke in the middle of the fucking night?”

Shade shot her a scathing look. "It's not smoke,” she said. "It's an electromagnetic signal. They'll pick it up on the radio, not by looking at it.”

“Huh,” Danse commented. “Brotherhood uses those. How’d you get your hands on it?”

The smile on Shade’s face was wicked. "The Brotherhood of Steel isn't the only army in the Commonwealth.” She kicked Maxson’s good leg out of the way and slid down next to him, leaning back against the concrete pad the tower was perched on.  Maxson for his part didn't even moan.  “Might as well get comfy," she said. "It'll probably be an hour or so before they find us.”

Trix sat down hard on the edge of the cement.  “Awesome, hopefully enough time for all the Wasteland wildlife to find us.”

Shade smiled at her coldly.  “Aren’t you glad you decided we shouldn’t bring the others right away?”

Trix rolled her eyes but didn’t bother to reply.  This was enough of a shit show.  Why Shade thought adding a detoxing junkie and a drunk, emotionally broken former Gunner along for the ride would be helpful, she’d never know.  Besides, she knew she was going to have a fight on her hands to talk Colter into letting them in alone. Once they were in she’d be able to talk to Mason and he’d make sure the others got in, but showing up with a parade of fuck ups? _What could possibly go wrong?_

Danse took a flask out of the pocket of his leather jacket, shaking his head at their bickering.  He unscrewed the cap and took a long pull from the neck.  He offered the flask to Blue.  She took it from him and with the subtlety of a brick upside the face, ran her tongue around the opening before taking a drink.  Danse raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond further.

Trix sighed.  She suspected if she was as blatant as Blue she’d get slapped more often than laid, but it worked for her.  Couldn’t blame her chasing after Danse either.  Crazy though he clearly was, that was one fine piece of ass.  Instead of staring at it and making shit more weird, Trix pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it with a match.  The dry tobacco crackled as she took a long pull.  She exhaled, the white smoke curling up into the now completely black sky.

 

* * *

 

 

They heard the vertibird long before they saw it.  Trix felt the thump-thump-thump of the blades in her chest as she dragged herself to her feet.  It was hard to tell the difference between her heartbeat racing with anxiety and that sound.  She swallowed her bullshit and nudged Blue with her toe.  She was asleep, using Maxson as the world’s most irritable pillow though he was still too stupefied to put up much of a fight.

Shade and Danse were already up.  Blue dragged herself up and came to stand next to Trix as Danse got back into his power armor, watching appreciatively.  She propped her elbow up on Trix’s shoulder but didn't say anything.  Trix figured Blue was probably pretty riled up too, though maybe for different reasons.  

  _Shit._ Trix refused to let herself dwell.  They left Nuka-World to protect Shade and she didn’t have any regrets.   _Not one._ Well, maybe _one_ , but it didn’t matter now.

Dust flew everywhere as the vertibird touched down. Trix had her arm over her eyes when the pilot hopped out of the cockpit, the motors still running loud.  Shade was on her feet and had her tongue forcefully down the throat of that same pilot before Trix even got her bearings.  

Trix shouted over at Blue.  “Guess she wasn’t kidding when Shade said she _had a guy_.”  

Shade untangled herself from the pilot, waving at them to get into the vertibird.  Blue shot Trix a dirty smirk.

“She’s got nice tits for a guy,” Blue shouted.

   


	8. Transit

It took all of the little self control Trix had not to fling herself out of the vertibird.  Everyone was getting on her last nerve and jumping out seemed a lot less fucking trouble than trying to push the rest of them out.

She chain smoked and bit her nails.  She couldn’t stop thinking about the Gauntlet or the bullshit hoops they’d have to jump through to get in.  She figured one of them was going to have to do it.  Colter got off on it.  Shade was stealthy; she’d been a Disciple and they were a big part of putting it together, but Blue was better at disarming traps, assuming she didn’t just trip over them first.  

Trix gnawed on her thumbnail.  She should probably just do it herself.  At least if she got herself killed she wouldn’t have to figure out a way to unfuck this mess or deal with….other shit.

In the distance, the first grey glow of dawn appeared on the horizon.  She knew the landscape below well enough that she figured the sun would be up by the time they landed.  At least she’d be able to see the shit that was there to kill her.

 

* * *

 

Blue was shielding her face from the flying dust by grabbing hold of the handles on Danse’s power armor and hiding her face against him.  Danse for his part looked nonplussed. He just squinted and turned his face away.  Shade was whisper-shouting something into the vertibird pilot’s ear, fingers gripped into the pilot’s faded green fatigues.  The pilot smiled and kissed her again before Shade hopped down and waved Trix back over.  Together they dragged the unconscious lump of Maxson off the vertibird and got him back far enough so it could lift off. Shade covered her eyes with her forearm as the vertibird disappeared off into the distance.  

The sudden silence made Trix’s ears ring.  There wasn’t a peep of sound other than the wind and Maxson labored breathing as he hung limp, his arms draped of her and Shade’s shoulders.  The transit station was utterly deserted.  She wondered if it was still up and running.  That was Colter’s idea, keeping the generators on to see if they’d get more idiots.  It had worked for the most part, but by the time they left things were going downhill fast.  Colter was content being the boss, way too content.  

Shade’s bullshit with the Gunner spy wasn’t the only reason they left.

Blue disentangled herself from Danse and made her way over to them.  Danse’s clanking footsteps echoed behind her.  She grabbed Maxson’s ass and he groaned but didn’t open his eyes.  They might have overdone it with the Med-X.

Blue jerked her chin towards the crumbling grey-scale buildings.  “Think it’s still working?”

Shade shrugged, frowning.  “Not sure if I want it to be or not.”

“I know the feeling.” Trix grimaced.

“Wait,” Danse interjected, his armored feet pounding hard into the dry dirt. “I thought you had a plan.”

Blue snorted.  Shade gave him a dark look.  Trix shrugged.

Danse rolled his eyes.  “Great.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, forearms clacking against his power armor.  “First things first, are we gonna be able to get in there?”

Blue quirked the corner of her mouth.  “Probably, depending on who’s in charge now and whether or not anyone’s been killed in the past year.”

“Good, then let-” he started and Trix cut him off.

“Wait a goddamn fucking minute,” she snapped.  “I’m willing to listen to anything you have to say about the Brotherhood that I can use to deal with this asshole,” she said, gesturing to Maxson, his head lolled against her shoulder.  “But don’t get any stupid ideas that you’re in charge.”

Danse pursed his lips.  “Fair enough,” he said.  He eyes looked clouded.  “I get people killed anyway.”

“We don’t,” Trix said.  “We do the killing instead.”

Danse nodded and looked away off into the distance, smart enough to be suitably chastised.  

“Let’s go,” Trix said, not waiting for anyone to even twitch before she started walking.  Shade had good reflexes and fell into step without a hitch.  Maxson’s feet dug furrows into the dirt between them.  Blue scurried up beside them.

“If you screwed up my chance at getting in his pants, I’m gonna-” she started.

Trix interrupted her.  “You’re gonna what? Kill me?”

Blue laughed.  “Nah, I’ll just fuck your brother where you’re gonna see me do it.”

“Gross,” Trix spat.

Shade chuckled.  “Leave me a front row seat, will ya?”

At that moment, Trix would have killed them both if she didn’t love them so goddamn much.

 

* * *

 

The monorail worked fine, but it was suspiciously quiet even once they were inside and there was the hum of the electrified rail to drown out the wind.  An old recording used to play or a voice would crackle over the speakers menacingly.  But there was nothing at all.  It was making Trix nervous as fuck, but she wasn’t going to say a word.  At least not with her current audience.

This was why it was always just the three of them before.  Fucking men threw a wrench into everything.

The brakes screamed against the tracks when they slowed to a stop.  Technically it wasn’t far from there to the actual entrance to the park, but the convoluted maze of the Gauntlet stood in the way, assuming she couldn’t convince someone to buzz open the security door.  Trix was already exhausted.

She left Maxson flopped on the seat in the monorail and headed out onto the platform.  The intercom was still in the same place, the red light glowing underneath the worn chrome button like the cherry of a cigarette.  She stared at it blankly.  She couldn’t believe she was hoping Colter would answer when she buzzed it.  He was a fuck, but she knew what to do with him.  He was easy to suck up to.

But shit had been so tense when they left; Nisha scratching for blood, Mags and William ready to knife anyone who got too close, even her brother starting to snarl like a rabid dog.  And...fuck.  She didn’t even want to think his name.  

Blue bumped into her from behind.  “You want me to do it?”

“Of course I do,” Trix said, “But you know I’ll have better luck.”  

Shade was leaning against the door to the monorail car and her voice echoed when she spoke up.  “If I thought we’d make it out alive, I’d suggest we just go in shooting.”

“Yeah, well,” Trix muttered.  “We wouldn’t.  And as much as Mason pisses me off, I really don’t want to put a bullet in my brother.”

“Not just him, I bet,” Blue snarked.  Trix shot her a harsh look and she put her hands up.  “Just saying.”

Trix shook her head.  They knew her weaknesses; even the ones she wouldn’t admit to herself.  “Doesn’t matter,” she said.  “Let’s just try to get in the hard way first before we try the suicide way.”

Before she could stop herself, she reached down and pushed the button.  “Hey, anyone there?” she called into the speaker.

It crackled to life, the voice too garbled by static to be recognizable at first.  “What do you want?”

She decided to start simple.  “We want in.  We’ve got caps, chems and a hostage.  It’ll be worth your while.”

The speaker crackled again, but there was a long pause before anyone spoke.  Trix’s heartbeat was too loud in her ears.  

“Trixie, that you?”  This time, the voice sounded familiar.

She mashed the button hard. “Fuck, you know I hate it when you call me that.”

Laughter erupted out of the speaker, slow and unmistakably recognizable.  “It is you.”  He chuckled again, but then it dropped off abruptly.  “You bring Shade and Blue with you too?”

“Of course,” she replied, trying to ignore how her fingers shook when she pushed the button.  She was less nervous around deathclaws.

“Shoulda guessed.”  The speaker cut off.  

“That who I think it is?” Shade asked.  Trix swallowed hard.  

Blue replied instead.  “Sure sounds like it.”

The speaker hummed again.  “Didn’t think you were ever coming back.”  There was another uncomfortable pause.  “I’ll buzz you in.  I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”  

The security door in the corner swung open when the magnetic lock released.  Lights flickered to life in the maintenance hallway beyond.  Trix stared blankly into the open door like it was the gaping maw of hell.

“Hey, tin can,” Shade said over her shoulder to Danse.  “Think you can get him?”  Danse didn’t say anything, just unceremoniously flopped Maxson’s limp body over his shoulder and stomped out onto the platform.

Blue and Shade took up positions on either side of Trix.  She felt Blue wrap her fingers around her elbow and the pressure of Shade leaning against her, just slightly.

“Come on,” Blue said.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Trix grunted.

“He’s not gonna stab you,” Shade said.  “It’s not his way, otherwise he’d have put a knife in Colter’s shoulder blades long before we ever met him.”

Blue snickered.  “Maybe he’ll kiss ya, _Trixie_.”

“Nah,” Shade said.  “This is Porter Gage we’re talking about.  He probably won’t do anything.”

Trix closed her eyes.   _Stabbing, kissing or nothing._ She wasn’t sure which one would be worse.

 

 


	9. Things Change

Trix kept her shit together.  She wasn’t entirely sure how she managed, except that she knew both Blue and Shade had probably even better reasons to lose it than she did and they both seemed fine.  They probably weren’t, but she was going to fake it at least as well as they were.

It wasn’t more than fifty steps between the security door and where it opened up in the bumper car arena.  That was where Colter had his power armor rigged up to the electrical system direct so he could play at being invincible.  He took particular glee in murdering hardasses who thought they could take him on.  The power armor was still there but it sat empty, covered by a thick layer of dust.  The familiar hum of electrical current through the oversized wires was conspicuously absent.  The stands were deserted. The control room on the other side of the arena was dark.  Only the emergency lights and the exit signs were lit up.

Trix frowned.  This couldn’t be good.  She heard the safety click off on Shade’s rifle.  Blue’s fingers flexed, though she didn’t reach for her gun.  The palm of Trix’s hand itched to grab her pistol when the door to the control room swung open on creaking hinges.

It was too dark to see who opened it at first, just a silhouette clearly belonging to a man.  A big one.  

“Well damn,” Mason’s voice echoed through the empty space.  “It really is my little pup sister, my favorite Operator and their pet murderer.”

“Fuck you, beta-wolf,” Shade snapped.

Mason chuckled.  “Missed you too Shade.”

The lights flickered on overhead, almost too bright.  The hum of the ancient fluorescent bulbs buzzed.  Mason stopped and casually leaned against the inert power armor.  He crossed his arms over his bare chest and his bone necklace flipped up.

“You back for good?” he asked.  

Trix shrugged. “Didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Good pup,” he drawled.  Trix tried not to cringe at his stupid pack bullshit.   _Pup, my ass._   “Heard you had presents for us.”

Trix pulled her backpack off her shoulder and held it out to him.  She didn’t take a step forward though, leaving a gap between them.  Mason glared at her.  It always worked to cow his pack but Trix didn’t twitch.  He wanted to play at being a dog, she’d win that game.  Just like any other dog, you had to make them come to you for treats.  After a few heartbeats, Mason rolled his eyes and grinned.  He knew what she was up to but he gave in anyway.  In the Mason equivalent to rolling over to show her his belly, he took the steps towards her and grabbed the backpack and her hand to drag her into a hug.  

“That’s my sister,” he said.  He patted her on the back a few times before letting go.  She could smell the overwhelming musk of sweat and leather on her just from that.  She wondered how Blue ever washed the stink off.  Mason flipped open the backpack and rummaged through the pile of chems.  He glanced up at her.  “Any Buffout?”

“Of course,” Trix said.  “At the bottom.”  Mason grinned.  

“I’m guessing that ass belongs to the hostage?” he said, gesturing to Maxson, still slung over Danse’s shoulder.  He didn’t even flinch at the beat up power armor or the gruff looking man inside it.  He knew his sister.  She was reckless, but she wasn’t stupid.

“He’s not your type,” Blue piped up.  “Because I know what is.”

Mason licked his lips but didn’t say anything.  Blue just smirked.  Without missing a beat, she tilted her head back toward Danse and winked at him.  She loved playing more than one song at a time.  Danse didn’t respond.  Mason segued to the next subject without comment.  

“The Overboss got you space set aside on the floor right under Fizztop,” he said.

That made her blood pressure go up.  She didn’t like the idea of being spied on, especially when she was still figuring out the details.  “Suppose Colter wants to keep a close eye on us,” Trix said, carefully inspecting her ragged fingernails so Mason wouldn’t see her skin flush with frustration.

“Colter’s dead,” Mason said.  “He ain’t been the Overboss for a long time.”

Trix snapped her head up and shot a look at Shade and Blue.  This could change everything, depending on who was actually in charge now.  Colter was a bastard, but he was a known quantity.

“Who-” Trix started.

Blue interjected. “Is it you?”

Mason snorted derisively.  “Fuck that,” he snarled.  “I wouldn’t want that fucking job no matter how many caps and how much tail came with it.”

Trix sighed.  There wasn’t a single answer left she liked.  Mags?   _Nisha?_ Fuck if that wouldn’t be the worst option.  Depending on this answer, she might just slit Maxson’s throat right here and bail.  She was trying to make them rich, not dead.

“Alright,” she said, bracing herself.  “Who is the Overboss then?”

“I am.”  The voice came from behind Mason.  Trix would know it anywhere.

Shade muttered under her breath.  “ _Fuuuck._ ”

“I thought you didn’t want the job, Gage.”  Trix was impressed at the lack of emotion in her voice.  

Gage shrugged as he walked around Mason to get a look at them.  He looked exactly the same as he had the last time she saw him.  When she snuck out of the park with Blue and Shade, she left him still passed out in her bed.  

Not her finest moment.  She didn’t tell Mason either, but that was different.

Maybe he didn’t look exactly the same.  He was never good at being open, but even at his worst, his eyes had never been quite that cold before.

“I sure as shit didn’t,” Gage said.  “But something had to give.”  His face was unreadable as always.  “Things change.”

Trix swallowed hard.

Blue jumped in, rescuing her.  “What the other bosses say?”

Mason smirked.  “Mags likes anything that makes her more caps and Savoy was just glad to still be alive.  They ain’t any trouble.”

“Savoy?” Shade asked.  He was Nisha’s second in command and pretty much the only reason Shade avoided the business end of a switchblade for as long as she did.  Nisha always said Savoy was immune to seduction, but that was before Shade.  He didn’t stand a chance.  

“Nisha tried to back Colter,” Gage explained.  “Didn’t go well.”

Trix almost wished she was there to see it.  Maxson moaned and shifted over Danse’s shoulder.

_Right, first things first._

“Well, anyway,” she said, watching to see if he’d settle down or if they were gonna have to shoot him up again. “Below Fizztop then?”  She looked back at Gage but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.  “We’re gonna need some restraints.”

“I can hook you up,” Mason said.  She figured.  He always had a herd of slaves.  

“No collar,” Trix added.  “Not yet anyway.  Just chains, shackles.”

“Got it,” he said.   He swung an arm over Blue’s shoulder and the backpack full of chems over the other and then gave Danse a scathing, pointed look.  “Come with me darlin’,” he purred at her.  “I’ve got everything you need.”

Shade looked mildly nauseated but followed them anyway, making sure to herd Danse in front of her.  She still hadn’t put the safety back on her rifle.  Trix didn’t blame her for being jumpy.  She couldn’t wait for there to be a locked door between them and the rest of this place.  

She was going to have to walk past Gage to follow behind and the worst part is that he wouldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.  She bristled at the idea.  Being pissed off was better than being stupid and sad about it.

Gage watched the others go, looking vaguely amused as Maxson started to come to, moaning and wriggling against the press of the power armor and probably at Danse’s armored hand wrapped around his thigh. Shade threatened to give Maxson a taste of the buttstock of her rifle.

Gage wouldn’t even look at her.  

 _Figures._   

Trix didn’t tell him she was leaving because she thought he’d try to stop her. Ha, she _deluded_ herself into thinking he’d stop her.  That was the fucking problem with Nuka-World, with fucking raiders, with _goddamn fucking Porter Gage_. They all just sat around and bitched and never did anything until the caps and the chems ran low.  They never had a fucking plan for anything.

She was shitty at planning too, but that wasn’t the point.  

In a huff, she stomped past Gage and before she took three steps he grabbed her arm.  She whipped her head around so fast to look at him, a shock of tingles ran up the back of her head.   Trix cringed.

He was still looking towards the door where the others had disappeared.  His voice was low and quiet when he spoke.  “Once you get this bullshit sorted, you and me need to talk.”

Trix grunted.  “About what?”

“You know what.”  He still utterly refused to look at her.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about-” She made a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh.  Her voice dropped low, imitating him.  “- _emotions and shit.”_

He finally turned his head to look at her.  His normally passive face was livid.  She didn’t know whether to be scared for her life or turned on.  She took back all her annoyance about him not making eye contact.  This was worse.

“I didn’t want to be Overboss either.”  He didn’t elaborate.  He dropped his hand and looked away again.  A bead of sweat ran down Trix’s back.

 _Fuck._ _That was officially the most terrifying and sexy that man had ever been._

She scurried out the door with her tail firmly between her legs.  Maybe Mason had a point about her.


	10. Point

**Blue:**

 

Mason smelled of sweat and leather and smoke and vaguely like wet dog.  It wasn’t a turn off.  Blue wasn’t sentimental about Mason -- she wasn’t like that about anyone.  If shit was fun, she’d do it and if it got complicated, it was no fun so she was out of there.  Mason’s territorial crap didn’t tend to extend too far past an orgasm.  It was fine.  Kinda hot, if she didn’t think about it too much.

While Trix and Shade took Maxson and Danse over to Fizztop, she went with Mason to go get the restraints.  He had quite the toy box full of chains and collars.  There were plenty of slaves and indentured workers in Nuka-World.  That was how shit worked, but only Mason kept his own personal stock.  If they didn’t fuck up, showed spirit?  He’d let them join the Pack.  

It seemed better than just slaughtering them outright, like the Disciples did.  

It bothered her less before they left even though that didn’t make any sense.  She was practically one of them, just without a shock collar, when she came to Nuka-World with Mags.  She earned her way out of it by making herself useful, but then she had the audacity to want to be more than just another suit.  She wanted to be _alive_ not just surviving.

Mags did not agree with that plan.  She was definitely no fucking fun.  

Blue was beginning to wonder why the hell she agreed to coming back here when Mason spun her around and pinned her up against the wall.  He growled at her, grinning and grinding his hips into hers.

_Oh yeah, right.  That was why._

She grinned, looping her arms around the back of his neck, crooking one leg up to hook around his thigh. Mason pushed his hips forward, bending his knees and lifting her up until her toes were just barely touching the ground.  The hard ridge of his erection was unmistakable, even through his ridiculous furry pants.

Mason was generally ridiculous, but he had a really nice cock.  He was more brute force than finesse, but sometimes that was exactly what she wanted.  He tucked an arm under her ass to hold her up while he tore holes in offending fabric.  

Blue wanted new pants anyway.

 

* * *

 

**Shade:**

 

She tied Maxson to the metal bed frame with rope, tight enough that it was going to leave burns if he struggled too much.  He probably deserved worse.  It wouldn’t do for the long term, but it would keep him from getting any funny fucking ideas until Blue got back.  Trix was gone too, headed upstairs to talk to Gage and Shade was real glad she didn’t have to deal with that shitshow.

She had all her own screwed up shit, but they probably wouldn’t be here for a week or so.  

Danse popped out of his power armor and dragged a chair into the shadows near Maxson’s cot.  He didn’t say anything, just tilted the chair on it’s back legs against the wall, his feet up on the edge of the stained mattress.  He crossed his arms over his chest and his head dropped forward.  The slow cadence of his breath followed only moments later.  

 _What a weird fucking dude._  She would never have been willing to sleep so easy, without someone she trusted watching her back or at least a folded switchblade in her cleavage.  Maybe Danse was the trusting type; maybe he was over confident; maybe he was fucking crazy.

_Whatever._

It was a decent sized room, and there weren’t any windows in here.  Shade approved.   A couple of cots, two couches, lockers.  Probably used to be a lounge for whatever sad sacks worked at this nightmare of a place before the war. The only light came from a lantern on a plastic cafeteria table on the far side of the room.  There were a few others, but she didn’t bother lighting them.  

She sat on the bench and pulled out all her weapons -- her rifle, the combat knife in her boot, the snub nose .44 tucked in a holster under her arm, the switchblade in her back pocket.  She used to carry an emergency grenade, but that’s what Trix was for.  She debated cleaning them, something to keep her mind off being back here.

But then again, Nisha was dead so it maybe wouldn’t be that terrible.

There was a knock at the door and Shade grabbed her pistol before she even looked up, close quarters and all that.  That .44 could blow a hole through a skull as big as her fist.  Shade did not fuck around.

She didn’t bother to say anything, just flung the door open and pointed the gun at whatever or whoever was out there.

“It really is you,” Savoy said, not at all surprised at having the barrel of her gun pointed at his face.  

“Damn,” Shade said, dropping her gun to her side.  “You look different.”  

She wasn’t kidding.  Last time she saw Savoy without his mask on, he looked like hot garbage.  Strung out on Jet, skinny, red stained bags under his eyes for days.  His hair used to be scraped short to fit under the helmet and it made his ears look too big for his head. Nisha insisted they wear those goddamn helmets whenever they weren’t sleeping, eating or fucking and that last one she still would have preferred they kept it on.  But now?  

 _Fuck._  He looked great.  His hair grew out in dark waves over his ears, his face was filled out like someone remembered to feed him.  His skin was all generally the same color and tan from actual sunlight.  The corner of his mouth twisted into a smile.  “Life’s been good to me since Nisha took a bullet.  It’s good to be the boss.”

Shade nodded.  She never really talked to him all that much like a person, just beat the shit out of him and humiliated him to get his rocks off.  Ultimately, that wasn’t really her thing but it was still fun and in the end it really saved her ass.  He was the little voice in Nisha’s ear that said Shade was trustworthy.  He kept her alive until she could get out.  She really did owe him one.

She gestured into the room and Savoy accepted.  The door clicked closed as he sat down on the bench, his back to the table.  He propped his elbows on the table behind him, knees spread wide.  That was way more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.  Being the boss did look good on him.  She wondered if he even needed the rough stuff to get off anymore.

She kinda hoped that was what he was here for.  She needed to blow off some steam.

 

* * *

 

**Blue:**

 

Mason was a goddamn machine; like one of those pre-war generators that was still arcing power to nowhere 200 years since anyone touched the thing.  He was big too and not just his dick.  Usually she liked to participate more, be the seductress, be the top bitch -- but all she could do was hang the fuck on.

He had Blue on her knees, one hand braced on the wall as he pounded into her, her sweaty hair swinging into her eyes.  He didn’t talk but made incoherent animal noises.  His teeth were sunk into the cord of muscle between her neck and shoulder, enough to leave a mark but not quite hard enough to draw blood.  She could feel the waxy sticky smear of his face paint rubbing off on her skin.

The entire seam down the middle of those fuzzy pants was split and she could feel the fur bunched up like two crazy caterpillars around his knees.  He had the sense to flip the long bones on his necklace to the back so he didn’t jam them into her shoulder blades, but she could hear them clicking together with every furious thrust.

She almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it was but then he reached up between her legs, pressing one thick, calloused finger against her clit and she forgot what the hell she was thinking about.

 

* * *

 

**Shade:**

 

Savoy might have looked different, but he still liked Shade to call him names and treat him like a bitch.  It was why he made such a good second to Nisha.  Shade wondered for a moment how the fuck he managed to be the boss, but watching him lick her boots was way much more interesting.

She pushed up hard against the underside of his chin against with the tip of her other boot.

“You missed a spot.”

Savoy made a strangled sound and went back to work.  His tongue darted over the worn black leather.  Shade shifted in her seat.  She’s reward him later by letting him do the same between her legs, assuming he behaved.

“That’s a good little bitch.”

She let him take a few more long licks, before she yanked her boot away.  She pushed hard on the joint of his shoulder until he toppled over on his back on the floor.  She moved like she was going to kick him and he spread his legs wider when he realized what she was doing.

Savoy was sick motherfucker, he really was.

She didn’t hit him hard, just ground the tip of her boot into his groin just behind his balls.  She pushed hard and she smirked as his erection jerked behind the zipper of his jeans. Savoy closed his eyes and arched his back off the floor.

In the shadow, there was the soft click of the front legs of a chair touching the ground, the rustle of fabric.  The lantern was too bright at this angle for Shade to be able to see, but she didn’t need to.  Danse was awake.  He was about to get one hell of a show.

 

* * *

 

**Blue:**

 

Mason flipped Blue on her back, legs hooked over his shoulders.  She was going to have cement burns on her ass, and she didn’t fucking care.  

At one point, she’d been giving him her best stream of dirty talk, the sort of stuff that would make a hooker blush and it had the intended effect.  He was completely rutting her now.  How he held on so long, she’d never know, but he was bound and determined to make sure she came at least one more time before he was done with her.  He was sweating and a vein pulsed in his temple, his face paint was smeared wildly on his face.  It was smeared all over her too.

Mason loved to mark his territory.

He was grinding his pelvis hard against her and it was just fucking perfect; she was gonna come and then he was and they were gonna be a sticky ruined fucking mess on the floor.  

Blue was glad to be home.

 

* * *

 

**Shade:**

 

Shade was stripped from the waist down, her knees digging hard into the ball joint of his shoulders, pinning Savoy to the floor.  He had his face buried between her legs and he was eating her pussy like a starving man at a banquet.  Every time he slowed, relaxed, tried to take a breath, she dug her knees in harder and threatened him.  

She never even touched his cock.  He’d already stained the inside of his pants with his spunk, but he was still going.  He was a dedicated boy.

Now that she was further away from the lantern, her eyes adjusted enough to see Danse there, still hidden in the shadow.  At first he seemed surprised, but eventually he just watched albeit trying to be sly about it.  By the time Savoy’s face was between her legs, he’d given up the pretense and took his cock out, stroking himself.  

Shade didn’t know whether Savoy was aware they weren’t alone or not, but she didn’t much care.  Ultimately, Savoy wouldn’t care either as long as it wasn’t another Disciple over there in the dark.  The humiliation pleased him.

Maxson was still unconscious and as Danse got closer to his orgasm, he got this wicked look on his face.  He got to his feet and then leaned his knees on the mattress of Maxson’s cot, right next to his head.  The tip of his cock was just inches from Maxson’s face.

Shade almost laughed, but she didn’t want to break Savoy’s concentration.

She was getting close and she grabbed Savoy’s hair and pulled hard.  Danse met her eyes.  That did something for him and he had a fully body shiver.  He leaned in closer to Maxson and with a few more rough jerks of his cock, he sprayed his come all over Maxson’s face.  Shade could see some soak into the wiry hair of his beard.

That did it for her.  She grunted as she rode out her orgasm all over Savoy’s face.

 

 


	11. Counterpoint

Trix stood outside the door to the Fizztop Grille.  It used to be Colter’s private sanctuary.  She’d only been inside once or twice, when Mason dragged her along to listen to plans for taking back the rest of the park.  He liked to bring her when he knew Colter was going to piss him off.  She was good at stopping him from random acts of hot-blooded murder.

Those ideas, they were always Gage’s, at least the good ones anyway.  The bullshit ideas like the Gauntlet though, those were all Colter.

It was during that first meeting, shortly after they gotten things cleaned up from clearing out the other Raiders that were here, that she met Gage.  She’d seen him from afar before.  He was the one who came to see Mason back in the Commonwealth when they were just barely scraping by.

She liked him right away.

He was different; calm, _smart_ .  It wasn’t the usual for a raider. She was used to Mason and his Pack.  She’d been with him since the beginning, ever since their parents ran off.  She liked the chems, the cigarettes, the booze.  She liked the cheap thrills and the fighting, but sometimes she wanted some fucking _quiet._  Sometimes she just wanted a Nuka-Cola and a sunset and a smoke and some goddamn silence.  Mason didn’t do silence and neither did the people that ran with him.  

Gage wasn’t like that. He never raised his voice, even when she could tell he wanted to put a bullet in someone.  He kept his cool; he was measured, reliable, consistent.  But he wasn’t cold; his voice had this comfortable gravelly drawl, this way he just put everyone at ease when they were ready to go for each other’s throats.

But that same bullshit was part of why she left, why they all had to leave.  When the rumors started flying -- that Mags and William were vying for territory, starting to pay off the lower level members of the other gangs (that one was true), that the Gunners were trying to gather intel and were considering trying to take the park away from them (that one was half true) and that Nisha was calling for Colter’s head (that one was pure bullshit, despite how likely it sounded) -- Gage wasn’t interested.  He heard her out, but he wouldn’t take it to Colter.  He said it would distract him.  If he could just get him to keep going through with the plan, take back the rest of the park, all those things would just work themselves out.

Trix didn’t believe it for a second.  It was going to be a shitstorm and she didn’t want to be in the middle of it.  Besides, maybe they were fucking, but that was all it was.  She knew she had feelings for Gage, but he wouldn’t talk about it.  He said _nothing._  He fucked her, hell, it felt like more than just fucking.  He’d hold on to her afterwards like he was afraid she might just disappear -- but in the morning?  It was like nothing ever happened.

It was all in her head.  It was stupid fairytale crap and she knew it.  There wasn’t any reason to stay -- Mason could take care of himself and…

But they were here now.  She just had to find a way to contact the Brotherhood of Steel and ransom Maxson.  There’d be enough caps in that to give Gage and the other bosses a big fat cut and still have enough to head back to the Commonwealth and live easy, at least for a while.  Maybe they could get a couple rooms at the Hotel Rexford, hell, maybe even stay in Diamond City for a while.

 _Why the fuck did Gage want to talk to her anyway?_  

Probably just to make sure he would get caps for his trouble.  She could’ve told him that back in the arena.  This was pointless.  

She almost turned around and walked away when the door swung open.  

“I thought I heard someone come up the stairs,” Gage said.   It was dark in the hall, but there were some lanterns behind him.  She couldn’t make out his face in the shadows, only that he wasn’t wearing his armor.  He didn’t say anything else, didn’t even tell her to come in, just stepped away from the door and went back to the couch.  There was a cigar burning in the ashtray on the table.  He picked it up and took a long draw and exhaled, smoke spiraling up over his head.

She didn’t come in further than the doorway.  “You said you wanted to talk?”  The tips of her fingers felt cold.

Gage grunted and crushed out the cigar in the ashtray.  “Close the door.”

Trix turned and clicked the door shut.  Her heart was pounding and it was pissing her off.  She’d fucked and left behind a lot better men than this fucking one-eyed worn out old piece of shit.  It didn’t fucking mean anything, even if it went on longer than her usual.   _It didn’t mean anything._  When she let go off the doorknob, her hands were shaking.  She jammed them in the pockets of her jeans before she turned back to face him.  She didn’t trust her voice and stayed quiet.

“Don’t just stand over there looking fucking nervous,” he said.  He popped the cork out of the bottle of whiskey on the table and poured some into a dirty glass.  He lifted it up and held it out towards her.

Peace offering.  Bribe maybe.  She needed a drink more than she wanted to worry about it.  No point in making this worse than it was already going to be.  

Trix crossed the room but kept the table between them.  She took the glass and downed the whole thing in a single gulp.  It burned and her eyes watered a little.  She bent over and slammed the glass against the table too hard, open end down.  A thin ring of whiskey stained the dust.

“You being stubborn on purpose or being out there on your own make you more fucking disagreeable than you were before?”  Gage asked as he leaned back, hooking his elbow on the back of the couch.

“What do you want from me, Gage?”

He frowned.  “An explanation would be a nice start.”

Trix rolled her eyes, dramatically rolled her head back.  “Look, this will be a good deal for you.  That unconscious guy is worth a lotta caps to somebody, but we needed somewhere to stash him until we figure out how to contact them.”

A muscle in Gage’s jaw twitched.  “That’s not what I meant,” he said.  His voice was tight.  “But I ‘spose it answers half my question.”  He grunted.  “All of it maybe.”

“What?” Trix said.  “What question?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Why did you just disappear without saying a goddamn word?”  He shook his head.  “Your fucking brother accused me of killing you until Harvey told him he saw you leave.  And that was only the beginning of the goddamn heat I got.”

Trix shrugged.  “You looking for an apology?  Because you aren’t gonna get one.”  She folded her arms across her chest.  Her cheeks felt hot.  Probably from the whiskey.  “I told you shit was looking bad.  I told you things were gonna go to hell and I didn’t want to just fucking sit around and wait for it.”

“Yeah, and I told you to stop being fucking dramatic.”

“Fuck you Gage,” she said.  “The fact that you’re the Overboss proves I was right.”

He rubbed his hands over his face.  Uncharacteristically, he pulled his eyepatch off, rubbing the sunken, empty socket underneath.  Instead of sliding it back into place like he always did, he pulled it off over his head and set the curved metal plate on the table.  It clinked against the side of her abandoned glass.  He lifted his face to look at her.

She’d only seen him like that a few times, but that was a lot more times than anyone else had.  The scars were old, broken pieces of keloid like a star around where his eye used to be, bisecting his eyebrow.  Skin grew over the empty socket, but it was sunken in and there was a dark shadow in the hollow space.    

“Why didn’t you at least tell me?”  He sounded strained.  Fuck, he sounded _hurt._  That wasn’t like him at all.  He got pissed, he got even, but he didn’t talk about feelings and shit.   The closest he got was telling her that he didn’t talk about it.

“What was I supposed to tell you?”  Trix pursed her lips.  “Oh, by the way, the rumor about the Gunner spy? That was right.  And that other one I told you about Mags?  Yeah, that one too.  But you told me to stop being...what was it again?  Oh, right, _stop being so fucking paranoid._ ” She let out a long breath.  “You didn’t believe me the first time, you sure as fuck weren’t gonna believe me the second time.”

He turned his head and stared out through the broken windows.  The shadow in the socket of his eye disappeared and instead she could see the outline of his skull and the deep divot.  It made him look almost naked, exposed somehow.  He didn’t look back at her when he spoke.

“That shit don’t matter.  That’s just details I handled when the time came.”  He sighed.  “But why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”  He turned to look at her finally.  His skin looked ashen.  “I thought…”

Trix grit her teeth.  “You’re the one who told me not to get attached.  You told me what was going on with us couldn’t be a distraction.”

He snorted.  “And you believed me?  Shit,” he drawled.  “You’re smarter than that.”

“Jesus fuck, Gage,” she said.  “If you’d given me a reason...I still woulda gone, but.”  She sighed in frustration.  “It doesn’t matter.  You’re the Overboss now.  I’m sure Colter’s groupies were happy to give you their attention instead.  Don’t need to bother with my bullshit just for some tail.”

She wanted to get the fuck out of there and go get her hands on some of that moonshine Mason made.  Maybe she’d go blind and forget what Gage’s goddamn face looked like.

“Can I go now?”

Gage’s hand snapped out across the table before she could react and wrapped around her wrist.  He pulled himself to his feet, yanking her closer until she was off balance.  His other hand grabbed her shoulder.  Her head spun.

_What the fuck kinda whiskey was that?_

“I trusted you,” he snarled.  “And you just fucking ran out on me.”

“I thought _you_ were smarter than that,” she snapped.  She would have pulled away, but he held her fast.  Her heart was pounding in her ears.  She was close enough to smell the cigar smoke and whiskey on his breath, that faint hint of metal from where his armor left its mark on his skin.  It made her chest hurt.  Everything hurt.

He pushed her away abruptly and glared at her hard.  He plopped back down on the couch, a puff of dust floating up through the air.  He grabbed his discarded eyepatch and yanked it back on over his head, the plate falling comfortably in place hiding his scars.

“You ain’t wrong about that.”  He leaned back in that forced relaxed pose again.  “Go find a way to get those ransom caps you promised. Don’t make me regret letting you back in here more than I already do.”

Trix managed to regain her balance and took a step back.  

“Right,” she said.  “Will do... _boss_.”

She forgot to breathe until she was back outside the door in the darkness of the hallway.


	12. Spunk

Trix wasn’t sure how long she sat there in the dark of the hallway.  She had a cigarette, and then another.  She considered going to find some random jerk and loudly screwing his brains out somewhere Gage would hear about it, but her heart just wasn’t in it.  She considered booze, chems...it was just gonna make shit worse.  

She found herself listening instead.  She could hear Gage stomping around through the door.  If he was a different kinda man, she figured he’d be doing chems, getting drunk, calling one of Colter’s whores up to fuck him, but he didn’t do any of that shit.  He smoked.  He had a whiskey now and then.  

For a while, he fucked her.

But as far as she knew, she was the only one.

_Fuck._

This was bullshit.  She had shit to do.  Trix pushed herself off the wall, pulled up her big girl panties and headed down the stairs.   _Fuck Porter Gage and fuck Nuka-World and fuck everything._  She was gonna be rich and they could all kiss her fat white ass.

 

* * *

 

“He did fucking _what?_ ” Blue said as Trix came through the open door.  She was leaned over Maxson, clicking the shackles around his wrists.  His ankles were already locked to the footboard.  She stopped and poked a finger into his beard.  He thrashed his head away from her.  Blue wildly laughed, throwing her head back and sitting down hard on the mattress next to Maxson. “Oh my fucking _god_.”

Shade was smirking, smoking a cigarette.  “He’s fucking crazy, Blue.”

“Who’s crazy? Besides everyone we know?” Trix asked, leaning against the door frame.  

Blue snapped to her feet, practically ran across the room to Trix and grabbed her by the shoulders.  “Danse, but whatever,” she said.  “What happened up there?”

Trix closed her eyes and grimaced.  “Well, he didn’t kill me.  I think I got off easy.”  Blue dropped her hands and gave Trix a sympathetic look.

“Shit,” Shade muttered.  “Gage always had a stick up his ass.  You didn’t think that was gonna change, did you?”

“No,” Trix admitted.  She didn’t want to admit she’d hoped things would be different.  She didn’t want to admit that she’d actually missed that surly cyclops looking motherfucker but she couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she just shut up.

“So,” Shade started. “I chased Danse outta here so we could figure shit out.”  She shot Blue a knowing look  “But he did get pretty talkative afterwards so I’ve got some new info.” Shade crushed out her cigarette in the ashtray and exhaled smoke through her nose.  “He said-”

Trix cut her off, “After what?” She frowned.  “Did you fuck him?”

Shade looked appalled.  “Fuck no, he ain’t my type, though…” She chuckled.  “I thought about for a minute there.”

Blue couldn’t contain herself and she snorted, laughing until her ears turned red.  “ _Jesus H. Fucking Christ_ ,” she stammered out between giggles.  “I like him even more now.”

Trix put her hands up in a wordless expression of _what in the actual fuck._

Shade put her hand up, asking her to wait.  She was trying not to laugh but failing.  “Dude,” she said, snickering.  “Savoy showed up,” she explained.  “And I did to him, well, what I do him.  And Danse woke up in the middle.”

“Oh shit,” Trix said.

“Wait it gets better!” Blue said.  She put her hand on Trix’s shoulder.  

“He, ah...was enjoying the show,” Shade continued.  “Not real surprising.  But he’s a real bastard.  He finished himself off on Maxson’s goddamn _face._ ”

Trix’s mouth fell open.  “Hot damn,” she said.  That was enough to knock her right out of her funk.  “I am sad I missed it.”

Shade smirked. “I don’t think it’d take much to convince him to do a repeat performance.”

“Shit,” Blue said.  “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Guess he really hates him,” Trix said.

“Or really likes him,” Blue offered.

Shade shrugged.  “Some of each, I’m pretty sure.  He’s a bigger deal to those Brotherhood assholes than I realized.  He’s the last descendant of Roger Maxson.”

Trix looked confused, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

Shade sighed in annoyance.  “Roger Maxson is the guy who founded them, after the Great War.  It’s like this guy is a prince or something.”

“Good,” Trix said.  At least something was going right.  “Then he’ll be worth more.”

“Yeah, about that; Danse said they’ve got radio towers jacked all over the place.  If we can hack into their frequency, we can just tell them we’ve got him, without even letting on where we are,” Shade said.  She looked less smug than Trix would have expected.

“That’s fucking perfect.  Why do you look so pissed off about it?” Trix asked.

“The problem is, Danse doesn’t know the frequency.”  Shade glared over at Maxson, still out in the bed.  “Or that asshole’s registration number.  Without those, we aren’t getting anywhere.  Plus, there’s not enough power here to get the tower boosted enough.”

“Wasn’t that the plan though?” Blue asked.  “I mean, Gage’s thing before we left was getting to the power plant to get shit up and running again.”

“It was, but apparently no one pulled it off yet,” Shade said.  “And we can’t just go out there and do it.  Colter had the only key to the power plant.  I’d guess Gage has it now.”

Trix shook her head.  “FUCK.”  She swallowed.  “You’re gonna make me go talk to him again.”

“I’m not the one who was blowin’ him for a year,” Shade said.  

“Or the one who blew him off either,” Trix admitted.  “He’s fucking _pissed._ I don’t know.”

Blue sat down at the table and crossed her legs.  “One thing at a time okay?  We gotta get Maxson to cough up the details first.  It won’t matter otherwise.”

“Right,” Shade said.  “But I don’t know how we’re gonna do that.  I, ah, threatened to slap Maxson around.  I was being a shit to Danse after Savoy left.”  Half her mouth twisted into a grin for a heartbeat before she frowned again.  “He said they’re trained to resist torture.  He said I could peel the skin off his face and he still wouldn’t talk.”

Trix sat down hard next to Blue and leaned against her.  Blue set her head on Trix’s shoulder.  Shade looked down at them, her hand on her hip.

“So now what?” Trix asked.  They all went quiet for a bit.  They’d pulled off a bunch of crazy shit back in the Commonwealth.  They had all those other Raider gangs on the docks totally in line and they’d only killed one or two of their guys.  It hadn’t been about violence.  They could back up threats, but those only go you so far unless you wanted all out war.  That was pointless.  

It was all about manipulation.  It was about convincing them that they were worth looking up to.  It wasn’t that hard; some bribes, some blowjobs and a lot of posturing.  It was so much better if you made them love you instead.

“Wait,” Trix said.  “You said Danse, like, spunked on Maxson’s face?”

“Yeah, but how does that help us?” Shade said.

“He knows Maxson better than we do right?  And he hates him.  He did something he knew would get to him.” Trix sat up straighter.  “That means sex is a _thing_ for that guy.  Either he’s freaked out about sex with guys, or he likes it.  Maybe he’s one of those dominance guys?”  Trix shrugged.  “If violence isn’t going to get him to talk, maybe breaking him will.  Maybe we have to do the same thing we did with the gangs back in the Commonwealth. Make him love us.”

“You think we can seduce him?” Blue asked.  She bit her lip.  “Because I’d sure be happy to volunteer to sit on his face.”

“It’s gonna take a bit more than that I expect.”  Trix grinned.  “But we’ll figure him out. We’ll make him so crazy, making him want us all so bad that he’d do anything.   _Anything._ ”

Shade nodded.  “It’s not a bad idea.  It’ll take a while though, to really do it right.  And that’ll give you enough time to talk Gage into letting us have a crack at the power plant.”

Trix wasn’t so hopeful about that part.  She might have burned that entire thing to the ground.  But then again, if Gage was anything, he wasn’t fucking stupid.  The power plant working was gonna benefit him more in the long run anyway.  

“I love this fucking idea,” Blue said.  She crossed her ankle over her knee and leaned back against the table.  “So where do we start?”


	13. Restraint

Trix made Blue and Shade go and get supplies.  And to fetch Danse back, let him in on their plans.  She suspected he was gonna love it.

They were gonna need food and water and _comforts._  Beer, chems, nicer blankets; whatever they could find.  If they were gonna pull this off, they had to do the opposite of torture.  They needed to make sure Arthur Maxson was really fucking comfortable so that he couldn’t use discomfort to distract himself from their -- Trix smirked -- _tender affections_.

She decided he’d been knocked out long enough.  Med-X was great for pain, but it made a cock as limp as a dead molerat.  She put a canister of Jet in his mouth and gave him just a little puff.  Not enough to rile him up, but enough to drag him back to consciousness.  

She considered unshackling him, but she didn’t think that was the way to go.  A guy like this was used to being the one in charge.  He called the shots; was used to being obeyed.  It was long past the time to take that away from him.

Trix sat on the chair next to the bed and used a damp cloth to wipe his face and his neck.  She made sure he wasn’t sticky at least.  Not really good to start at that point.  The cool water would help wake him up anyway.

He hadn’t really been conscious since before they got on the vertibird.  After his outburst over Danse, they’d kept him pretty much in a drug induced coma.  She hoped it hadn’t screwed him up.  But he was young and with the exception of the bullet hole, he seemed pretty fucking fit.  She figured he’d be fine.

Jet worked fast.  Arthur scrunched up his face, squeezed his eyes shut, smacked his lips before blinking his eyes open.  They were a little bloodshot, but that was to be expected.  He probably had a mother of a hangover.  Out of habit, he tried to sit up and the handcuffs rattled.  His eyes flew open wide and he jerked his arms again hard against the restraints.

“Whoa there,” she said, pushing down on his chest.  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Arthur glared at her.  “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Trix shrugged one shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go.”  He jerked his arm again a few times, pulled at the ankle on his good leg.  He was held fast.  He sighed through his nose.  He wasn’t stupid.  He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get out of those.  He relaxed back down into the pillow and looked up at the ceiling.  “Where are we?”

“Nuka-World,” Trix said, not bothering to soften the blow.  No point in pretending now.

“What?” He looked at her.  “That’s a raider outpost.”

Trix just smiled at him.

It hit Arthur all at once.  “You’re a _raider_ .  And... _fuck._ ”  His voice dropped low and deadly. “You have that synth with you.”

“Both true,” Trix said.  She reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead.  He tried to pull away and she lifted her hand, waiting for him to settle again.  There was nowhere he could go.  He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“You can torture me,” he said as he opened his eyes and stared at her.  “But you’ll never get anything from me.”

Trix gave him an innocent look, or as innocent as she could muster anyway.  “Like I said, we aren’t going to hurt you.  Not at all.”  She put her hand back on his forehead, ran her fingers through his hair, gently working out a tangle.  She sat back and put her hands on her thighs.  “Bet you’re thirsty.”

He glared at her again.  

She grabbed a can of purified water from the floor and popped open the tab.  “No point in suffering, right?”  She scooted the chair closed and put one hand under his head.  He reluctantly cooperated, letting her raise his head and put the can to his lips.  He took a long drink, sputtering and choking on the water, droplets clinging to the wiry hair of his beard.  Trix wiped some of the water away with her fingers, careful not to get too close to his mouth, lest he try to bite.  Hard to say what he’d try.

“Better?” she asked, laying his head back down.  

“What do you want from me?” he snapped.  

“Don’t worry about that,” she said.  They had to break him first, ask questions later.  She cocked her head and made of show of looking at him.  “You’re pretty dirty,” she said.  She carefully unbuttoned her flannel shirt and looped it over the back of the chair by the wall, leaving her in only a faded t-shirt that was hardly thicker than a slip of paper.  “I should get you cleaned up.”

He did not look at all thrilled by the prospect.  

_Perfect._

She poured the rest of the can of water into a small bowl with the rag she’d wiped his face with.  Trix made a show of soaking the rag, squeezing it out, letting the water drip back into the bowl.  She tried to continue wiping his face, but he jerked his head away.  

“Are you always this difficult?” she asked, though she already knew that answer.

He clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth.  “I don’t trust you.”

Trix grinned and grabbed his chin through his beard.  He tried to pull away, but she dug the tips of her fingers into his jaw bone so he couldn’t move.  She lifted his face up, turning his chin up and to the side, exposing his throat.  She dragged the damp rag along the pulsing vein in his neck until she reached the stretched neck of his shirt.  She let the moisture soak into the fabric.  

She didn’t let go of his face, but leaned over him instead.  She felt him tense up against the restraints but there was nowhere for him to go.  Trix rubbed her cheek against his, letting herself enjoy the sensation of his skin against hers.  No reason _she_ couldn’t have a good time; in fact, the better time she had, the more enraged he’d probably be.  She moved with agonizing slowness until her lips touched the shell of his ear.

Arthur rattled his handcuffs.  He held his breath.

“ _You shouldn’t_ ,” she whispered, letting her lips gently caress his ear when she spoke.  She felt him shiver.

Trix let go and leaned back all at once.  Arthur snapped his head back and stared daggers at her.  She ignored him.  Instead, she grabbed the center of his sweatshirt and yanked down, the old worn out neck hole gaping down far enough to see his collarbones and the divot of his sternum.  She wiped the deep hollow between his collarbones, the water soaking into his chest hair.

She continued to pointedly ignore him.  When she did as much as she could, she moved down and lifted up the hem of his shirt instead, wriggling it under his back despite his unwillingness to even shift his weight.  She glanced at his face and he was staring at the ceiling.   

Trix smirked.  She turned her eyes back and got a good look at his body, exposed from the waist of a pair of worn jeans up to just below his armpits, where she bunched up the sweatshirt.

_Sweet mother of fucking god._

She considered.  He knew what he looked like, she was sure.  He didn’t get this level of ripped without noticing.  But maybe….

“Damn _Arthur_ ,” she said, intentionally using his first name to be as informal as possible.  “You sure are a pretty boy.”

“Fuck you,” he snapped.  Trix laid the rag in the center of his chest, wiping across his chest, down the curve of his ribs.  

“I don’t know,” Trix said, enjoying the feel of the arcs and curves under her hand.  “You’re young.  Not sure you’d know how to do it right.”

He yanked his head up off the pillow, all the muscles exposed clenching as he strained against the handcuffs again.  

_That hit a nerve.  Perfect._

Trix moved the rag lower, down the center of his belly to the button on his jeans.  She deftly flicked the button open and realized that she hit more than one nerve.  His cock was hard, straining up against the fabric.  He was big too, almost more than she usually went for but that didn’t mean it wasn’t impressive. This was going better than she expected.  He didn’t trust her.  He quite probably hated her at this point, but he was hard as a fucking rock.  

Instead of continuing, she stood up and dropped the rag into the bowl, the water sloshing on to the floor.  She left him just like that; pants unbuttoned, shirt hiked up over his nipples.  It was warm enough it wouldn’t be physically uncomfortable, but she figured having the head of his cock peeking out from behind his zipper would mortify him.

Trix slipped her flannel shirt back on and ran a hand through her hair.  She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the tip of his cock.  His hips moved almost involuntarily towards her touch.

She winked at him and he grimaced.

_Oh, this was going to be so much fun._

 


	14. Fast Forward

Maxson couldn’t tell whether it was day or night.  There was no way to know.  They didn’t sleep normal hours or eat at regular times or do anything by any kind of schedule he could ascertain.  They fed him, they bathed him, they -- _he cringed --_ indirectly fondled him.  It was impossible to know when any of them would show up.  He wondered if he was going mad.

Danse was there too often.  He... _It_ … was a constant source of anxiety.  

And then there were the three girls. They all touched him with almost too much care, even when they did things that were terrifying.  After a few days, or at least what felt like a few days, the one they called Shade cut his clothes off because they started to stink.

She used a combat knife; large, wicked sharp.  She got so close to his skin, closer than she needed to.  She cut through the fabric and the ripping sound still echoed in his head.  She terrified him but his body betrayed him with arousal instead.

Shade cut through his white briefs and ran the cold backside of the knife up the shaft of his painfully erect cock and then left him, exposed, with his clothes lying in ragged tatters around him.

 

* * *

 

There was a chair next to the bed.  It sat there like a silent sentinel.  More often empty, but sometimes he’d pass into a fitful sleep and wake because he felt eyes on him.  It was warm and they usually left him exposed.  He could feel their gaze on his bare skin.  

Maxson’s eyes snapped open in sudden anxiety.  Danse sat in the chair.  He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of faded jeans, torn at the knees.  His feet were bare. Behind the chair was the one called Blue.  She wore even less, just the straps of her bra visible as she leaned over Danse’s shoulder, whispering in his ear.

Danse noticed when he woke.  He smiled and it chilled Maxson to the bone.

“Arthur,” he said.  “You’re awake.”  Blue made a show of running her lips along Danse’s cheek when she lifted her head.  She did the same thing to Maxson, at least once a day.  

He felt sick.

“Sleep well sweetheart?” she asked.  Maxson didn’t respond, just frowned.  Blue rolled her eyes.  “Always so surly.  Such an angry boy, don’t you think Danse?”

Danse turned his eyes to her, smirking before looking back to Maxson.  His eyes looked like black soulless pits in the low light.  “Arthur was always angry once they beat the hesitance out of him.” He smiled wickedly.  “Did you know that, Blue?  He was sent to the Citadel because his own mother thought he was too weak to live up to his name.”

Blue looked at him with mocking sympathy.  “Oh poor baby.  Did they hurt you a lot?” she asked.  Then she grinned to match Danse’s horrible expression.  “Did you like it?”

 

* * *

 

Trix fed him.

Blue washed his hair.

Shade straddled his waist and shaved the stubble off his neck with her knife.

Danse watched with dark, hooded eyes.

Arthur wanted to die.

 

* * *

 

“They should be here in a few days,” Shade said.  “I hate to ask, but you need to talk to Gage, make sure he’ll let them in.”

Her voice pulled Arthur up from yet another nightmare.  The chair was empty.  They were all there, sitting at the table across the room with only one lantern lit.  Forks scratched against plates as they ate.  Brahmin steaks, from the scent.

They fed him only bland, packaged food.  Blamco Mac N Cheese.  Instamash.  If they didn’t kill him, that probably would.

Trix sighed, elbows on the table.  “I can but I can’t help but think maybe one of you might have better luck.”

“He’s only mad because you hurt him Trix,” Blue said.  She was sitting next to Danse.  She was _always_ with him.  “Men are bad at dealing with that shit.”

Danse snorted.  

 _Thing still thought it was a man._ Arthur used to think so too.  The best kind of man.  Loyal, strong, obedient.  _Handsome._  Arthur swallowed bile.

“Yeah, well so I am,” Trix said.  “But I’ll try.  I know you care about Cait.  I’ll do my best.”

 

* * *

 

Arthur heard gunshots in the distance.  He heard laughter as they drank and joked in the circle of light.  He sat in the dark and started to pine for their attentions.  

Trix smiled at him.  Shade was deceptively gentle and her fingers were cool.  Blue laughed, rubbed aches out of his muscles.   

Danse... _fucking Danse_...he talked to him even when all Arthur did was glare.  He told stories about their past, even the ones he would rather forget.  Especially the ones when he was still a boy and Danse was already a man.  People already looked up to Arthur as the deathclaw wound healed on his face.  But he wanted to be like Danse.  Wanted to be with him too.  It made his chest hurt.

 _It made his cock hard._  

They all did.  All their soft teasing touches, all their teasing gentle fingers, always tempting but never once giving him any relief.  It was terrible when they paid him constant attention and it was worse when they ignored him.

 

* * *

 

A noise woke Arthur again.  He couldn’t place it.  His eyes struggled to focus.  He turned his head.

The chair.  It was occupied.  

Danse was sitting the chair and Blue was straddling his lap.  They were kissing, just carefully, gently.  One Danse’s big hands was cupped around the curve of her waist.  Her fingers were in his hair.  

She was making these little tiny sounds.

It wasn’t even sex, it wasn’t even something he would have bothered to chastise Knights for doing in the hallway of the Prydwen.  It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

He hated Danse so much.  

He wanted him.

He wanted to be him.  He wanted Blue, or Shade or Trix or even Danse himself to drape themselves over his lap and gently kiss him.

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

Arthur clenched his eyes shut.  He tried to block out the sound, but he couldn’t despite how quiet they were.  It was just their mingled breathing, the soft, moist sound of their lips and sweet feminine sounds of arousal.

He was so hard it was painful.

Death couldn’t come soon enough.


	15. Pause

Trix sent word with Harvey that she wanted to talk to Gage.  It was the coward’s way out and she knew it, but it was better than just going up there and getting turned away at the door.  She technically didn’t have any news on the Maxson situation, though she could tell they were making progress with him.

He didn’t fight back anymore.  He seemed to like it when they called him Arthur and petted him.  It was actually sort of pathetic.  Handsome as he was, he wasn’t quite as appealing without the fire in his eyes.  She’d still give his cock a good ride, if the need arose.  She wasn’t dead.

Trix figured she’d hear back from Harvey in a day or two.  Hopefully he didn’t get too much of an earful.  Poor guy was fragile enough already.

She didn’t expect Gage to come to her.

He walked in through the door without a word, just barging in on them.  Trix was cleaning her pistol at the table with Blue.  Blue had her feet in Danse’s lap and he was painting her toenails.  They were super weird.  They didn’t seem to be fucking, but they were all over each other, all the time.  At least whenever Blue wasn’t messing with Arthur.

Trix couldn’t figure out what was going on with them.

Across the room, Shade was sitting on the side of Arthur’s cot, amusing herself by braiding his beard.  As always, he was nude and uncovered and the longer Shade was there, the harder he was getting.  By the time Gage came in, Arthur’s cock was a comical shade of blush pink as were his cheeks.

Gage spotted him and gave Trix a look, raising his eyebrow.  

“Well shit,” he said.  The corner of his mouth quirked.  “Of all the weird fucking crap I expected to walk in on, that was not on the list.”

Trix swallowed the lump in her throat.  She didn’t care about Arthur or his perpetual boner, but seeing Gage almost smile made her feel dizzy.   _Fuck._   

Trix pushed herself to her feet, steadying herself with her palms flat on the table.  She left the pistol there in pieces.  The first time she went to see Gage she was armed, but she figured it was pointless.  If he wanted her dead, she’d already be dead.

“You wanted something?” Gage asked.  

“Yeah, I, uh.”  Trix was failing utterly to find the words.  This was going to be another serious annoyance. She really did not want to push her luck.  She knew Gage was a lot more dangerous than he let on.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Gage said.  Trix frowned, her eyebrows drawing together over her eyes.  Gage rolled his.  “I ain’t gonna shoot you.”

“Right,” Trix managed.  She tried to catch Blue’s eyes, but she was too distracted pointing out a spot Danse missed.  Shade was preoccupied antagonising Arthur.  

_Fucking bitches.  Where were they when she needed them?_

Gage walked out the door without waiting for her.  Against her better judgement, she followed him.  She watched his ass as he walked.  It wasn’t as round as Danse’s but she remembered how it felt to touch it.  Everything about Gage was lean and rangy and firm as fuck.   _Shit._  She tried to focus on something else.  She lifted her eyes and caught herself staring at his shoulders.  In his armor, he always looked like he was top heavy.  The sharp corners on the yellow metal frame of his chestpiece clashed with the arcs of his bones and dark amber colored skin underneath.  The weight of it made all the muscles in his upper body tense and visible.

_Shit, shit, shit._  Obviously, she never had particularly good judgement in the first place.

 

* * *

 

The elevator doors closed behind them and Trix was suddenly overwhelmed by claustrophobia.  It had always been a problem as long as she could remember, though usually she managed not to freak out anymore.  But she was already on pins and needles and this tipped her over the edge.  It felt like the walls were suffocating her.

She wanted out.  Breathing was suddenly hard.

It was only one floor.  She could keep it together, she hoped.

Gage had his back to her.  She tried to look up at the ceiling instead of at his back.  She leaned against the back of the elevator, holding on to the wall and tried to catch her breath.  It didn’t seem possible. Trix gasped for air.

His head turned around at the sound of her panting.  “Are  you-”

The elevator stopped hard and the lights went out, plunging them into darkness.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered instead.  “Not again.  Goddamn generator.”  

Trix dug her fingernails into her palms.  Her heart raced.  She inhaled hard, but it felt like only a teaspoon of air got into her lungs.

“Shit, Trix, you ok?” Gage sounded annoyed and concerned.  She could hear the rattle of his metal armor as he moved around.  It was impossible to see anything.  

“Trix?”  He was starting to sound worried.  She was still trying to breathe.  She saw stars.  

_How fucking weak am I?_

There was pounding from below, fists on the metal doors.  The sound came from low enough that she knew they couldn’t get out.  They were trapped between the floors.  

“Anyone in there?” a voice called.

“I am, you fucking moron,” Gage shouted.  

“Shit, boss, you ok?”  

“We’re fine.  Go get Chip and tell him to unfuck the generator,” Gage said.  He sounded different giving orders.  “And tell him to do it fast or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Right on it boss! We’ll have you out of there right away!”  The voice faded away.

Gage grumbled. “Goddamn it. So sick of this shit.”  He sighed.  “Alright Trixie, take a fucking seat.  It’s gonna be a while.”

Trix tried to complain about him using that fucking stupid nickname, but only managed to squeak.  She wanted to punch herself or him in the face, but she was frozen in place.  

“Trix?”  

“Can’t,” she managed to pant.  “Breathe.”

“ _Shit_ ,” he said.  “Hang on.”  She heard the clank of his armored chest piece hitting the floor and as her eyes started to adjust to the darkness, his hands moving as he felt around for her.  His hand found her arm and he grabbed hold of her.  “Damn, I forgot about you and small spaces. You gonna be okay?”

Trix swallowed hard.  He set his other hand on her shoulder.  “Trix, talk to me.”

“I...I don’t.”  Her voice was just breathless gasps.  “I don’t know.”

“Come on baby,” he said.  “You got this.  It’s gonna be fine.”

She remembered the first time he said that to her.  They tried foolishly to check out one of the other parks, Dry Gulch, and immediately got swarmed by bloodworms.  They darted into a restroom with a cement floor that would keep those fuckers out.  It was mostly collapsed behind them, leaving a space barely enough for the two of them to stand.  The bloodworms threw their bloated bodies against the door.  All they could do was wait for them to give up so they could tear ass back to the main park.

_Come on baby.  It’ll be okay._ He held on to her in the dark, rubbed her back, petted her hair until she could breathe again.  Then he told her stories and made her laugh.  They ended up in bed together that night and she really thought it was something more than just fucking because they were glad to be alive.

It sure felt like it at the time.  

Trix tried to take a breath.  It still wasn’t easy, but the stars faded.  

“That’s it,” he said.  “Just try to relax.” Gage rubbed her shoulder.  His fingers were dry and rough, but warm.  He could be gentle if he wanted to be.

Trix took a shaky breath, but it was a real one.  The next one came easier still.

“Fuck,” she whispered.  “Sorry.”

“Naw, it’s alright.  I shoulda remembered.  Stupid generator’s been acting up lately.”  He sighed.  “If I don’t get the power back on, shit, I dunno.  It ain’t looking great around here.”

“No, I mean,” she said, taking in another shaky breath.  His hands on her arms felt like they were keeping the world from caving in and crushing her.  “For not saying goodbye.  I don’t know why I did it.”

“ _Shit._ ”  Gage drawled out the word.  “Trix.”  He let out a breath irritably.  “Just don’t.”

“But-”

He cut her off.  “No. You were right.  You still are.  Shit ain’t much better even now that Colter’s dead and Nisha’s dead.  We took a few of the parks back, but we still can’t get through the ferals to the power plant.  Everybody’s on fucking edge, at each other’s throats.  I keep expecting some bastard to get a hold of a Fat Man and just blow the whole place to fucking hell.  Maybe they should.  I ain’t cut out for this shit.”

“Wait, that’s...fuck, Gage,” Trix said.  It was getting easier to breathe.  Not being able to see the walls of the elevator, only the slightly darker shadows of Gage in front of her let her forget.  “That’s bullshit.  How long has Colter been dead?”

He felt him shrug.  “Couple months.”

“If you took back even one park, you’d be doing a fuckload better than things were before,” she said.  “You should have always been the Overboss, Gage.  It would have gone better from the start.”

“Shit.”  He said it again.  It was what he always said whenever he didn’t know what else to say.

“Listen,” she said.  “It’s not what I came to talk to you about, but we need the power plant back online too.  We need to boost the radio signal.”  She bent her elbow and reached out him.  She was trying to go for his elbow, but in the dark her fingers landed on his rib cage instead.  She hesitated for a heartbeat and then relaxed.  The palm of her hand curved around him, fingertips on the corded muscle in his back.  “I’ve gotten pretty fucking good at taking down ferals.  There’s a shitload of them out in the Commonwealth.  If we can take the power plant back, maybe...maybe I can make it up to you, all the... _crap_.”

“Huh,” he considered.  “Maybe.”  He paused.  “But what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, yeah, we have some friends coming.  Just two of them.  I just wanted to ask you to let them in.”

“They gonna be trouble?”

“Not for you.”

“Yeah, that’s cool.”  He paused.  “Why didn’t you just come up and ask?  Fucking Harvey made it sound like something serious.”

Trix knew he couldn’t see her expression, so she didn’t bother to swallow her frown.  It was a little hard to breathe now too, but for different reasons.  “I fucked up.  I mean, I left for the right reasons, but I did it the wrong way.  I was afraid.”

“What?”  He sounded incredulous.  “I ain’t never known you to be afraid of shit, excepting for this elevator bullshit.”

“You’ve been the exception for me more than once _Porter_.”  It felt good to use his first name, his real name.  He didn’t often let other people use it. She knew what was coming when she did it though.

“Well shit,” he said.  She could almost feel him smirking.  “ _Trixibelle,_ that’s sweet enough to make my teeth hurt.”

“Ugh,” she groaned.  “I will never understand what the hell my parents were thinking.”

“I dunno,” he said.  Now she could hear him smiling.  “I always liked it.”

“No accounting for taste.”

He chuckled.  “You were the one who was fucking the scarred up old asshole with one eye.”

“I don’t know,” she said, mimicking him.  “I always liked him.”

“ _Trix._ ”  His voice was wary.  Instead of replying, she just flexed her fingers against his ribcage.  

_God, she missed this.  Missed him.  Despite everything._

“You know I-,” he started when she didn’t say anything.  “Ah, fuck it,” he muttered and kissed her.

The elevator lurched back to life and started to move.  He just grabbed on tighter.  The bell that marked the floor rang and the doors slid open.

“Boss, you o-”  A throat cleared.  “Right, nevermind.”

The doors closed again.  Trix didn’t even notice.


	16. Rewind

“Cait’s through the physical stuff,” MacCready said.  He was a mess; his hair disheveled, his face sunburnt, dirty, exhausted.  “It’s the other stuff.”  He paused, his face sympathetic.  “It’s all the stuff that made her want the drugs in the first place...that she still has to get through.”

 

* * *

 

_Blue’s father had an arm crossed over his chest and the other around Blue’s upper arm.  His grip was hard enough that her skin was white where his ragged fingernails dug in._

_“I won’t take less than 200 caps.”_

_Mags brushed a nonexistent piece of hair back into place.  “150.”_

_“200.”_

_“Listen,” she said, her lilting voice as cold as a grave.  “150 or you can keep feeding her and bailing her out of the security office.  I can get by fine without her.”_

_He yanked Blue forward towards Mags.  She tripped over her ungainly teenage legs.  “Fine, I just don’t ever want to see her again.”_

_Mags smiled like a viper.  “Done.”_

 

* * *

 

Cait sat in the corner of the couch, her legs pulled up to her chin.  She was pale, paler than usual, her freckles dark spots in the half light.  Her eyes were hollow.  Shade sat nearby, careful not to touch her.

“We’re here,” Shade said.  Her voice was different.  That sharp knife edge was missing.  “Whatever you need.”

Cait didn’t say anything.

 

* * *

 

_“My name is-”_

_“Shh,” Nisha cut her off.  “It’s like being born again, baptized in blood.  Everything that came before? Whoever you were?  That doesn’t matter.  You passed our test.  Give yourself a new name.”_

_She was a bloody mess.  He didn’t get a chance to touch her.  She slaughtered him first._

_“Call me...Shade.”_

_Nisha smiled.  It made her look crazy._

_“Perfect.”_

 

* * *

 

Shade was holding Cait now.  Cait’s eyes were bloodshot but dry.

“Why didn’t they want me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.  “Why didn’t they protect me?  They were my _parents._ ”

“God, Cait I don’t know,” Shade said.  She stroked her hair.  “But it wasn’t your fault.”

 

* * *

 

_Mason raged.  He threw a mug across the shack where it shattered against the wall._

_“Mason! Stop it!” Trix shouted at him.  Everyone was afraid of him and for good reason, except for her.  He was only sixteen, or at least that’s how old they thought he was.  He was still growth spurt thin and lanky, but he was strong and he had a temper like a yaoi gui. She grabbed his wrist.  “This won’t bring them back.  Don’t destroy what little we have.  We’re gonna need it.”_

_“Fuck,” he snapped but didn’t fight  her.  “You know they’re just hoping we think they’re dead and once we go, they’ll just come back.”_

_Trix shrugged.  She had given up on her dad and his string of girlfriends a long time ago.  “Probably, so I say we take everything we can carry.”  She looked at Mason, the corner of her mouth twisted into a grimace pretending to be a smile.  “And then we burn this shack to the fucking ground.”_

 

* * *

 

Shade held Cait’s shoulders.  MacCready was at the far end of the couch, nodding in and out of consciousness, Cait’s feet in his lap.  Danse slept fitfully; this made him very uncomfortable. Trix and Blue stood over Maxson, watching him sleep by the light of their cigarettes.  

“She’s finally asleep,” Shade sighed.

Blue turned to look at her.  “You gonna be ok?”

Shade raised her eyebrows.  “I’m not sure I know how _ok_ feels.”

“She’s tough,” Trix said.  “We all are.”

“I’m tired,” Shade said.  

“Get some sleep,” Blue offered.  “We’ll keep an eye on everyone.”

Without another word, Shade’s eyelids drifted closed.  Blue reached into her back pocket and pulled out a flask.  She took a swallow and offered it to Trix.  

“As Cait would say,” Trix said, “Sláinte.”

 

* * *

 

_“I heard a disturbing rumor,” Mags said.  Her legs were crossed but she looked the opposite of relaxed._

_“Oh?”  Blue knew better than to offer anything else.  Mags used everything against you._

_“They tell me that you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy.”  Mags was matter-of-fact._

_“What enemy might that be?” Blue asked.  She knew damn well who Mags was talking about, but it was bullshit extraordinaire._

_“You know I mean Mason,” Mag said.  She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.  “We’ve given you everything, and you pay us back by fucking that dog?”_

_Blue crossed her arms over her chest.  “Even if I was fucking Mason, what does it matter?  The Pack aren’t our enemies.”_

_“For now,” Mags said.  She leaned back again.  “I won’t say it again.  We own you Blue.  Don’t fuck with us.”_

 

* * *

 

Cait woke up screaming, begging for Psycho.  

“Please!” she screamed, yanking at Shade’s shirt.  “I need it.  Ah’m gonna die.”

“You aren’t going to die,” Shade said.  Her voice was still calm.  She held Cait by the shoulders.  “You don’t need it.”

“Ah’m too fecking weak,” Cait said, burying her face against her hands.  “I dinna know if I can do this.”

“You _can_.”

 

* * *

 

_Nisha was covered in blood up to her elbows.  Her face was splattered.  The rest of Disciples stood watching as her victim, someone who used to be their sister, died at her feet._

_“This is what happens to garbage that betrays me.”  Her smile split her face below the impenetrable visor of her helmet.  “I won’t hesitate to destroy any one of you.”_

_Shade watched, but her guts ached.  Catta -- her real name was Bridget -- stood next to her.  Shade had learned the truth only hours before.  Bridget was a Gunner.  She was there to make sure Nuka-World wasn’t making plans to take them out._

_The Gunners were on Nisha’s list of enemies but she wasn’t intentionally after them.  She would get them out of Nuka-World if they tried anything, they all would, but that was where it ended._

_Bridget was supposed to stay in the park for another month or so, but Nisha was starting to get suspicious.  Bridget had to get out.  And Shade...Shade vouched for her when she managed to get through the Gauntlet._

_Shade thought she was pretty.  Now, they were both as good as dead._

 

* * *

 

“She was a real bitch about it,” Gage said, handing the vial to Trix.  “But I got Lizzie to make some.  She said this will clear out whatever’s left in her system.  Ain’t gonna help with-”  He gestured aimlessly into the room.  “You know.”

Trix couldn’t help but smile at him.  Fucking predictable.  “ _Feelings and shit?_ ”

“Fuck you Trixiebelle.”  He smiled when he said it.

“Maybe later.”

 

* * *

 

_“Goddamn it Gage, why won’t you listen to me?”_

_“I heard you,” he said.  “But fucking Colter’s distracted enough.  I can’t bring this shit to him.  Besides, he probably wouldn’t do anything anyway.”_

_“Jesus FUCK,” Trix snapped.  “Then what the fuck is he here for?”_

_“Look,” he said.  He looked exhausted.  “I’m trying ok?  Just give me some more time.”_

_Trix wanted to argue more, but she was just as tired as he was.  Mason was on her case to do something about Mags.  Everyone was on edge about Nisha.  Things were fucked and no one was doing anything._

_“Whatever,” she muttered and turned away.  She wanted him to say something.  He had to know she was on her last fucking nerve.  She cared about him...more than she should.  It was making her weak._

_Gage was as always, silent._

 

* * *

 

Shade snapped the jet canister off and snapped on the vial of Addictol.  This stuff was as expensive as a clean pair of pre-war underwear.  She only hoped it was worth them being in debt to Mags.

“Come on, Cait,” she said.  “Just try this.  It’ll help.  You’ve gotten far enough this should do the rest.”

Cait looked dubious, but she was ready to kill herself and everyone else for a hit of Psycho at this point.  Something had to give.

She took a hit and all her muscles suddenly relaxed.  The effect was almost immediate.

“Feck,” she muttered, exhaling.  “It feels like we just woke up from a nightmare.”  She smiled and let herself lean into Shade.  Shade smiled at MacCready over her head.

“We did.”

 


	17. Real Pain

They were a tangle of limbs on the couch; Shade, Cait and MacCready. There were little noises, giggles.  It was hard to tell what part belonged to whom.  Danse supposed they were celebrating.  Cait did seem to emerge out from under a cloud of Psycho in mostly one piece.  

They made him feel like his skin was the wrong size.

Nothing was that easy.

Danse tried to pretend to keep sleeping, even as Trix and Blue played cards and ignored the fact that it had nearly devolved into sex in that pile of writhing flesh.  It was one thing, what happened with Shade and Savoy; with Arthur. It was one thing to punish that sadistic bastard, humiliate him even if he wasn’t aware of it at the time.

This was something else.  

It wasn’t that Danse was prudish.  He’d had every sexual experience of his life in a room full of other people.  There was no privacy in the barracks or on the Prydwen.  There wasn’t privacy in the common rooms in Rivet City.  But they weren’t having _sex_ over there.  Everyone was still dressed but they were _making love_ nonetheless.  It made him feel unsettled.  

He didn’t know about love. He thought he did, but he was wrong.  It wasn’t for him; _for things._

He peeked out through squinted eyes and could see the foot of the cot they had Arthur trussed up to.  No matter how they tormented him, he still hadn’t said a word.  Danse wasn’t surprised.  Arthur was young, but he was one of the strongest willed people Danse had ever met.  He was inspiring; he was everything Danse aspired to be and more.  

Arthur wasn’t just the Elder; he was his friend, his confidante, his -- _he couldn’t even think it --_ and then Arthur put a bullet through the back of his skull.

Danse snapped to his feet abruptly, the metal feet of the cot scraping hard against the floor.  Blue and Trix looked up at him, but the mass of body parts on the couch didn’t even react.  He stomped across the room like a brahmin stung in the ass by a bloodbug and kicked the leg of the couch when he got close enough.

MacCready looked up him, startled, irritable.  “What the hell, man?”  Cait frowned. Shade glared.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson?” Danse said, trying to keep his voice level and failing.  “Thought you’d been…” he grumbled, emphasizing the next word bitterly. “ _Fucked_ enough.”

MacCready rolled his eyes.  “Just because Nate was trash…” He sighed.  “Does everyone know about that?”

“He liked to kiss and tell.”

“Whatever,” Mac replied.  He leaned back and Shade wrapped an arm protectively around him.  The look on her face just dared Danse to say something else.

He wanted to, but he heard the slow scrape of chairs and knew Trix and Blue had taken notice.  He might have a use or two to them, but he knew they wouldn’t hesitate to cut him if he got out of line.  He could have taken any one of them in a fight but not all of them. He wanted to die, however he didn’t want to this very minute.

With a derisive snort, he stomped out the door and slammed it behind him.  It took him a bullet to the skull before he learned the danger of emotional crap.  He had to fight it at every turn.  Even now.  Especially now. Might take the same for them, but he wasn’t going to be the one to school them.

 

* * *

 

 

“What the fuck was that about?” Shade snapped at Blue.  Blue put her hands up.  

“How the hell should I know?” Blue could feel everyone’s eyes on her.  Why in the exact fuck did they think she’d know what his damage was?  He wouldn’t even let her touch his cock directly, for fucks sake.  They’d been dry humping like pre-war teenagers, but that was about it.  She was actually kinda surprised she hadn’t lost interest since he kept being so weird about it.

Trix sat back down and pointedly put her feet up on the chair Blue had been using, crossing her ankles.  “You must have to talked to him sometimes, in between all that face sucking.”

Blue shrugged.  “Not really.”  She frowned.  She didn’t _talk_ to men.  That’s not what they were for.

Trix rolled her eyes. “Well you better start.”  She unfolded her legs and sat up, putting her elbows on the table next to their abandoned cards.  “He’s useful, but not if this bullshit outweighs it.  And he’ll talk to you before any of us.”

“Fuck that,” Blue said.  She was so not up for this.  She did not want to _talk_ to Danse.  It was weird enough already.  “Why not Shade?  He wanked over her.  I’ve never even gotten his pants off.”

Shade didn’t bother looking up from braiding Cait’s hair when she spoke.  “That wasn’t about me,” she said.  She got a strange look on her face.  “The harder I was on Savoy, the more I hurt him, the more Danse seemed to get off on it.”  She turned to face them, her hands idle on Cait’s shoulders.  “He didn’t want to be Savoy,” she said.  “He wanted to be _me._  He wants to hurt someone, can’t you see it?”  She kissed the top of Cait’s shoulder.  “You should be glad he’s _not_ trying to fuck you and he’s content with frottage.  I don’t trust him.”

“Oh, well way to encourage me to talk to him in a dark alley, Shade,” Blue said.

“Do you want me to send someone?” Trix asked.  “If you don’t want to, I’m sure Gage would have him taken care of.”

Blue didn’t want that either.  She didn’t want to just have him murdered.  She didn’t know what the fuck she wanted, except that she usually would not put up with this level of complication, not matter how nice a piece of ass was.  That’s why she liked to ride Mason.  Mason was as complicated as a swatter to the face.

“Jesus H. Fucking Christ on a nuke, I’ll go talk to him.”  Blue put her hands on her hips and stared at Trix who just raised her eyebrows at her.  Blue was hoping for a reprieve but she didn’t actually think she’d get one.  

Eventually Trix sighed.  “Don’t get killed, ok?”

“No promises,” Blue grumbled.  

She headed out the door to follow Danse and got all the way to the ground floor before she realized she hadn’t even taken a gun at all.

 

* * *

 

“Danse!”  

He was ignoring her, stomping down the middle of the street like he owned the place, heading out towards the wild parts of the park.  They’d made a little progress out there since Colter took a dirt nap, but it was still a really excellent way to get killed until they got the damn power back on.

“Danse!” Blue couldn’t believe she was fucking _chasing_ after a goddamn man.  This was bullshit and once she got him to stop acting like an idiot she was going to find a whole _room_ full of people to soundly fuck. Or get really high.  Or maybe both.  

_Whatever_.

“Goddamn it, Danse, stop!”  

That finally got his attention.  He didn’t turn around, but he did stop and his shoulders slumped slightly.  Blue caught up to him and spun on her heels around in front of him so he wouldn’t just start walking again.  

“Fuck me,” she muttered.  “What the hell, man?”

He wouldn’t look at her.  

Blue sighed.  “Look, you can freak out over whatever you want, but you can’t get weird.  Shade’s got a short temper and Trix is just as likely to put a bullet in you as she is to do anything else.”

Danse snorted.  “And you?”

“Ugh,” Blue complained, crossing her arms over her chest.  “I just don’t want shit to be... _more weird_.”

He finally looked up, but just enough to make eye contact with her from under his heavy eyebrows.  “What’s there to get weird?”

“Exactly,” she said.  “Exactly what I...what I wanted to hear.”  The sentence started out strong, but she pissed out at the end.  Her ribs felt strange.  She did not fucking like it for a second. She tried to ignore it.  “Look, I don’t know what set you off back there, but-”

He cut her off.  “You want to know what _set me off?_  I’ll tell you.”  He made a sour face.  “You are all just fucking around like you have all the time in the world, but I know Maxson, he’s making plans and he’s going to find a way to destroy you.”

“What?” Blue gave him a look as if he was being completely stupid.  He was being stupid.  “Our little Arthur has blue balls so bad; he’s right on the verge of doing whatever we want just to get a few good sharp tugs to blow his load.  He’s not thinking about anything else.”

“You’re wrong,” Danse said.  “He has no trouble mixing his erection and violence.”

Blue raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh this I have to hear,” she said.  “But not standing the middle of the road, ok?  Let’s get a beer at least.”

Danse glared at her.  “Is this a game to you?  None of you take anything seriously!”

“Well no shit, Silver Shroud.  You figure that out all by yourself?”

His face shifted from annoyance to rage in a heartbeat.  He moved as if he was going to grab her, but Blue was faster.  He might have been big but she’d been fending for herself as long she could remember.  She grabbed his wrist and spun around, his arm twisting up behind his back before he knew what was happening.  She yanked his elbow, inches from dislocating his shoulder.  

“Don’t,” she spat, putting more pressure on his arm.  He grunted in pain.  “You’re lucky I’m not armed or you wouldn’t have lived long enough for me to hurt you.”

“I took a bullet to the head and it didn’t kill me,” he hissed through his teeth.  He tensed up but then deflated, letting his entire body sag against her.  Blue wondered if it was a ploy, but he was off center.  She still had the advantage.  What the hell was he doing?

“Are you hoping for another one?”

He spoke just barely loud enough for her to hear.  “It would be less painful,” he said.  She loosed her grip and he barked a laugh.  “Not that.  There’s nothing you could do.”  

“Sounds like a challenge,” Blue snapped, jamming the palm of her hand under his elbow and jerking up until she felt the strain on his tendons fighting her.  “Hurt yet?”

“Harder.”

She dug her short fingernails into the soft skin on the side of his elbow and threw her weight into it. “Now?”

“Not even close.”

Blue dropped her efforts all at once and stepped back.  Danse stumbled and almost lost his footing.  He hadn’t even gotten upright when she grabbed his chin in her hand and yanked his face up to look at her.  

“Are you fucking crazy?”

He was faster this time.  He grabbed her before she could even react but instead of an attack, he kissed her.  Blue couldn’t breathe.  She didn’t fight back.  She should have fought back.  He was clearly insane. When he finally let go, she couldn’t even step away.     

_What the hell was she doing?_

“What was that for?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“That’s real pain,” he said.  

For once, Blue was at a loss for words.


	18. Right Through Me

Something shattered inside him.  The anger that fueled him drained out through the soles of feet until he felt like an empty husk.

_Of course, that’s all he really was._

Danse let Blue drag him out of the middle of the street and tried to feel nothing. He shouldn’t feel anything.  Machines didn’t feel. But he couldn’t help it. That was _always_ his problem.  He felt _everything_.  

_Why would the Institute build something so fucking defective?_

She barely got him out of the road when he snapped again.  It was like a switch, this rage.  She had his wrist in her hand and he flipped his forearm over and grabbed her wrist, pulling them both into the narrow space between two of the buildings.  It smelled like piss and puke and death.   _What didn’t?_

Danse pinned Blue up against the brick wall with his body.  It felt like she let him do it.  Instead of struggling she just looked at him.  Her normally expressive face was blank, neutral.  

He wasn’t stupid.  He knew she wanted him.  He wished that was enough.

“You think you are in control,” he said.  “You and Shade and Trix; you think you can do anything.”

The corner of Blue’s mouth quirked.  “We can.”

“You can’t.” Danse pushed his weight against her.  “Things don’t work that way.”

Without even a flicker of an eyelash, Blue twisted out of his grasp and pinned him against the wall instead.  She was small, wiry.  There was no way she should have been able to, but she just slipped out of his grasp like fog.

“We can,” she repeated, her narrow fingers digging hard into the meat of his shoulders.  “We fucking _do_.  All of us, you included, should have been dead a hundred times over. And yet here I still am, living and kicking the shit out of little boys with stupid ideas.”

Danse’s forehead creased, throwing his eyes into shadow.

“You’re fucking brainwashed, man.  I’ve met you Brotherhood types before.  You’re all crazy as batshit.”

He considered fighting back for a heartbeat but gave up as quickly and let his head fall back against the wall.  He stared up at the wan, grey sky in between the narrow gap between the buildings.  It was a solid, unwavering sheet of clouds.

“Robots get programs.”  His voice was flat.  

Blue rolled her eyes so hard her entire head moved.  “You have blood. You eat. You shit. You aren’t a fucking robot.”

Danse was still looking up at sky and he could only see her at the lower periphery of his vision.  

“Fine,” he muttered.  “Not a robot.”  He tipped his head down and stared at her.  His voice was monotone.  “ _Generation 3 Synth._ ”  He snorted.  “Or as Arthur would say, _that thing._ ”

“Jesus fucknuggets,” Blue snapped with more verbal eye-rolling.  “What is your fucking deal?  We’ve got him naked, trussed up like a pig and you know he’s hating it.  And if he doesn’t cooperate, we’ll let you off him however you want.”  She shrugged and let him go.  Danse got the impression she was on the verge of either just bailing on this conversation, or trying to finish what Arthur started.  “I mean, how much does it take to get over a bullet that didn’t even kill you?”  She crossed her arms over her chest.

Danse swallowed.  If felt like she was a like a Deathclaw staring him down; woe to anyone who underestimated her.

When he didn’t speak, Blue continued, her feet widespread and her voice carefully low enough so they wouldn’t be overheard.  “Do you really still think any of this fucking matters in the end?  You think that stupid little quest spoon fed to you by a bunch of assholes wearing tin cans is a real thing?”  She smiled, but it was dark.  “Because it’s all bullshit.  None of it matters.” Blue ran a hand through her hair and sighed irritably.

“You don’t-” Danse started.

“Shut up,” Blue stopped him.  “The only reason anyone is still alive is that the idiots who dropped the bombs blew themselves up before they could launch them all.  Some fuckhead like Maxson gets an idea and some old tech manuals and we aren’t going to have to worry about anything ever again.”  She shrugged.  “Or you run into a deathclaw, or a bullet or…”  She chuckled.  “You piss on a baby radscorpion and you aren’t nimble as I am with your pants around you ankles and it stings you in the crotch and you _die._  We are all gonna fucking die.  No point in wasting the time you have with your fucking head up your ass.”

“So what then?” he said.  “So I just do whatever the hell I want and fuck tomorrow?”

Blue shrugged her shoulder again.  “I think about tomorrow, but I can’t wait for it.  It might not be there.”

Danse frowned.  “Easy as that, is it?”

“Why not?”  She shook her head.  “Fuck, I’ve put more effort into you than I’ve ever put into getting into someone’s pants before.  I don’t even know why, but here I am, still doing it.” She paused, a line appearing between her eyebrows.  “I swear you’re starting to rub off on me...well, more than just literally.”

Danse snorted a laugh.  He couldn’t help it.  He couldn’t figure out why, but she made him laugh when he was almost certain he’d forgotten how.

“How do you do that?” he asked.  

“What?” she grinned.  “Be right all the time?”  She dramatically flipped the fringe of her hair.  “It’s a gift.”

There were some gunshots in the distance, which was usual, but they both still turned to look.  The sound disappeared back into the rumble of voices.  Might have been nothing; might have been a murder.  It didn’t matter much. Danse scuffed his boot against the shattered concrete.  He felt Blue’s hand wrap around his arm.

“Can’t we just stop being stupid?” Blue asked.  “I don’t know what’s gonna happen for sure, but Maxson is either gonna break or eat lead.  I can promise you that.”

“I’m not sure which option I like more,” Danse said.  “I did enjoy taunting him with you.”  It felt good to admit it.  “But I...there was a line I thought I couldn’t cross.  I shouldn’t cross with _you._ ”

“It’s sweet you trying to protect my honor and all that,” Blue said.  “But pretty fucking pointless.”  She leaned into him again.  “I want to fuck the taste out of your mouth and I want to make Arthur watch.”

“He’d hate that,” Danse said.  He had to look away from her.  “He...used to….”  He couldn’t even say it out loud.  “Well until he found out what I am, I was his favorite.  Better than one of our sisters.  He had to save that honor for someone _special._ ”  He grimaced. “I think he shot me, hoping to...more than…”  He was only a step from stuttering himself into silence.

Blue frowned.  “He what?  Used to fuck you?”  She rolled her eyes.  “Why do dudes get so _weird_ about it? I mean, I get being pissed about the bullet.  But so what he used to fuck you?  He’s a fucking asshole.  I think that’s pretty well established.  And he’s paying for it.  We’ll _make sure_ he pays for it.”

“I don’t know why, I just …” Danse rubbed a hand over his face.  “It made it worse, when he didn’t just kill me.  He didn’t do what we were taught.  We were supposed to be the good guys, the noble ones who didn’t torture…”  He grunted.  “What a load of bullshit.”

“I’m a raider,” Blue said, blunt.  “I do chems and drink and fuck and steal from assholes and shoot fuckers who deserve it. But I won’t ever feed you a line about how good I am.  I’m a piece of shit; but at least I’m honest about it.”

Danse smiled despite himself. He could feel it sort of bubble up from inside him.  He always felt everything, but this was something he hadn’t felt in a damn long time.

“You know,” he said, reality finally hitting him.  “You’re right.  I don’t know why I’m so weird about it.”  Whatever he used to be, or wherever he came from?  It really didn’t matter. Instead of more hand wringing, he reminded himself how satisfying it was when she was wriggling herself around on his lap while Arthur watched.  He reminded himself how much fun it was to watch the girls toy with Arthur; how much fun this all was when he wasn’t doing exactly what Blue said he was; jamming his head up his ass.

“So does all this mean I’m finally going to get you out of your pants?”  Blue could clearly read what was going on in his head.  He swore she always saw right through him. She was smirking.

“Well, not in this alley,” he said, still smiling in that comfortable unconscious way.  “But yeah, if you’re still interested.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Blue said.  “But some fucking reason, you seem to be the exception to my rules. Usually if I feel something...somewhere other than between my legs, I get the hell out of there.”  She hesitated a little at the end, the curves of her ears turning red.  She looked away, her bravado wavering.

Danse cocked his head.  Somehow, that made this even better.  

“Is that so?” he asked.  He tucked his fingers under her chin and made her look at him.  He felt her swallow.  Danse liked her; of course he did.  He wasn’t like her.  He wasn’t going to be able to get it up unless he was feeling something in several places.  It was why it made what happened with Arthur hurt so fucking much.  But Arthur would get his, and it would be even better if Danse helped.  He knew what buttons to push.

He looked at her carefully.  He adored her wildness, her bravery, her strength.  Blue was everything he wasn’t and maybe a lot of what he would be better off learning to be.

“I like you too, Blue,” he told her.  This time when he kissed her, he liked that too.  



	19. Destruction and Ruin

Arthur was in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t that he was drugged, drunk or even dehydrated.  If he was to be honest about it, they took better care of him than he ever bothered to care for himself.

They made sure he was clean, fed, warm.  They toyed with him, but only very carefully.  They seemed to revel in arousing him but never taking it further than that.  They never asked anything of import, and mostly he was uncooperative but he was starting to waver.

There were endless hours of boredom, staring up at the stained ceiling without even shadows and sunlight to let him know how much time had passed.  Had it been a week?  A month?   _A year?_  Arthur had honestly no idea.  

All he knew was that the fondling, the teasing, it was infinitely better than the nothingness in between.  He’d never really been alone in his life as much as now.  He used to pine for solitude, to the few moments each day he was able to close a door behind him and be left to his own thoughts, but now all he wanted to fresh air and someone to talk to. He dreamt about sunlight and companionship.  And sex.  

He heard the sounds first.  His brain was foggy as he drifted up out of a dream; a dream that looked like a painting of a witches’ sabbat full of round naked limbs attached to people he couldn’t identify.  At first he wasn’t sure if what he was hearing was real or remnant of the dream.  It was a smooth, wet sound.  It was the distinctive slip of flesh against flesh.

He woke aroused, as he always did and he felt his cock stir against his belly.  He blinked his eyes, dry and sandy and longed to rub them.  He moved his arm instinctively, but was met with resistance.  Handcuffs rattled against the metal bed frame.  Instead, he took a long breath through his nose.

Cigarettes. Whiskey. Musk.

Arthur let his head roll to the side.  It was dark; it was always dark in here, but a lantern hung from a hook in the corner, casting artful rays of light across the three bodies.  It was as if they’d positioned themselves just so that the light could do that, perfect shadows and a contrasting bright cast of brightness across their skin.  

 _Shade. MacCready. Cait._ He didn’t know if those were actually their names, but it’s what they called each other.  

His eyes went out of focus.  Blood pulsed in his groin.    

They were angled just so, just enough that he could see everything.  It was like they were performing for his benefit, yet he was positive if he spontaneously combusted they wouldn’t notice.  

The only thing any of them had on was sweat.  

MacCready was sitting on a chair, a sturdy wood one with arms, his long legs splayed out between Shade’s knees.  She was on his lap with her back to his chest, long dark hair looped over her right shoulder and MacCready’s face buried in the left side of her neck.  One of his hands gripped the arm of the chair, the other was curved around her ribs.  His grey stained fingers looked dark and tan against Shade’s ice pale skin.

She moved against him gracefully and the sound Arthur heard repeated.  In the gold cast light, he could see the muscles in MacCready’s lean arms tremble as she rode him.

Cait knelt in front of them, the pink soles of her feet tucked under the plump curve of her bare ass.  Arthur would have thought she was made of white marble, except for the lines of scars criss-crossing her back.  She had one hand on MacCready’s knee and the other was playing them both like some living musical instrument, her fingers touching, stroking.  Shade’s head fell back and she moaned; long, low, feral.  Her head snapped back, her hair elegantly sliding across her skin with the motion as she pulled Cait’s face up to hers and kissed her.

Arthur had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.  He’d never felt more alone.  He might have been willing to do anything to get out of that bed to join them.  His mouth was so dry, he couldn’t make a sound.

He watched. His chest ached.

There was a sound outside the door and the knob rattled.  They all stopped and held their breath, even Arthur, as the door swung open.  Trix and Gage practically rolled across the wood of the door.  He heard Shade chuckle quietly, but she didn’t speak.  Arthur could see her start to move again, see Cait move up again but his attention was diverted.

Gage and Trix were different.  They weren’t a moving sculpture; it wasn’t graceful.  They were desperate, passionate.  

They moved enough to get the door closed and tumble across the room to the unoccupied couch further in the shadows.  It was harder to see the details at first with the brightness of the lantern burned into his retinas.  It was just movement, then the sound of a ring of keys rattling to the floor.  

“Oh my god.”  He thought that was Trix’s voice.  He wasn’t entirely sure.  It was hard to think.  

Arthur blinked hard until his eyes watered and the shadows came into view.  Gage had Trix pinned down to the couch, the pale flesh of her hip bright against the worn grey fabric.  Gage’s hand was arched between their bodies.  It was impossible to see exactly what he was doing, but the muffled moans from Trix made it pretty clear.  They stopped kissing just long enough to catch their breath, foreheads pressed together.

Gage said something he couldn’t quite hear, but Trix’s intake of breath was unmistakable.  She kissed Gage hard, her entire body curving up toward him.  Arthur heard fabric tear as they fumbled.  They moved with the desperation of a man whose hair was on fire would run to water.

The skin of Gage’s hastily bared hips was dusky and dark compared to hers.  Arthur swore he felt it when Gage shuddered, his pelvis grinding against Trix.  Then, instead of frantic pawing, they both stilled for a few heartbeats.  Arthur knew that sensation, that temporary satisfaction of burying his cock inside his lover and pausing, soaking it in.  

It had been so long, since before….since before everything started to crumble around him.  It felt like a different lifetime.  But his cock remembered.  Painfully hard, he felt himself twitch as Gage finally began to move.  They found a rhythm easily; they were practiced lovers, there was no doubt.  Trix pulled the metal eyepatch off Gage’s head and it clattered to the floor.  Arthur could see only the edges of the scars underneath before Trix kissed them.

Arthur closed his eyes.  His body ached to be touched. If only they’d touch him...he’d do _anything_.  Whoever he was before seemed like a distant memory.  He felt like just a raw bundle of primal needs, of animalistic urges and nothing else mattered.

The sounds of sex were a chorus in his head.

Then, a counterpoint.   _Laughter._  Dark, smoky laughter -- male and female voices both slowly crescendoed outside the door.  His lungs burned.  He wanted that; laughter, camaraderie, as much as he wanted to be fucked.  

The door opened again.  Someone snorted a bark of wild laughter.

“Looks like we got here just in time for the fuck show.”  Blue’s voice was giddy.  

Shade snickered.

Trix and Gage didn’t even stop, the old coils in the couch squeaking.

The door clicked shut.

Arthur opened his eyes in time to see Danse nuzzle the side of Blue’s neck, his hands wrapped around her upper arms.  She exaggeratedly rubbed herself back against his groin.  Danse groaned.

It was a familiar sound.  It hurt Arthur more than a knife between the ribs.

“So, you wanna show these amateurs how this is done?” Blue snickered, swiveling around to face Danse, the tip of her tongue flicking against his lower lip.  Danse kissed her and then looked up.  He looked right at Arthur, his shadow dark eyes drilling into the darkness.

Danse smirked. “I have some ideas.”  His voice was low.  It was that same voice he’d use when Arthur locked the door behind them.

He took Blue’s hand and led her towards Arthur.  Blue raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but as long at it ends with an orgasm, I’m in.”  She was as casual as if she was talking about a sandwich.  Arthur envied her.  His head swum.

Danse didn’t stop until he backed Blue into the wall next to the head of the bed.  Arthur couldn’t look away, his head level with the side of Blue’s lean thigh still inside her worn jeans.  Danse ran his hand slowly along the seam, curving around until he could squeeze her ass.  Arthur could feel eyes on him.  Danse wanted him to watch.

Arthur was giving him exactly what he wanted.

Danse took a step back and gave Blue a long, exaggerated look.  He cocked his head.

“It’s been awhile since I had a woman,” Danse admitted.  Blue tilted her head just enough to give Arthur a look out of the corner of her eye.  Her teeth flashed.  His stomach flipped.   _He told her.  She knew._ His cock actually started to hurt.  

Danse reached out and pulled a tie on the side of Blue’s shirt first, unwrapping her like a present.  Arthur’s attention was riveted.  Danse was moving ridiculously slow and Blue was eating it up, throwing more looks in Arthur’s direction.  They knew exactly what they were doing.  

Danse peeled off her jeans and flung them across the room, his shirt followed after.  He knelt down in from of Blue and looped her knee over his shoulder.  He kissed the inside of her knee, staring at Arthur while he did it.  

Danse buried his face between Blue’s legs. She slapped the palms of her hands hard against the wall.

“Oh _fuck,_ ” she moaned.  Danse’s chuckle was muffled.  Arthur could hear the wet sound of his tongue.

Blue turned to look at him.  She moaned again and her eyes went unfocused.  She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried again.

“Poor Arthur,” she purred at him.  She glanced up across the room at Shade and Arthur followed her eyes.  They’d shifted positions; now Cait was on her knees with MacCready behind her.  He was moving carefully, slowly.  Cait lapped at Shade like a kitten with a bowl of cream.  It was still so artful with the deep black shadows and bright sheen of sweat on their skin.  He stared.

“Poor, poor Arthur,” Blue repeated and he looked back at her.  “All these pretties and nothing you can do about it.  You can’t even touch yourself.”  She gave his cock a long look.  He could only imagine how ridiculous he looked, just like she said, unable to do anything, his cock straining into empty air.  Blue shifted her hips, ran her fingers through Danse’s thick hair.  

She tilted her chin up, gesturing towards Gage and Trix.  She smirked, biting her lip.  Trix had flipped Gage onto his back and she straddled him, her hands on his bare chest.  She still had her flannel shirt on, but Gage had the tee shirt under pushed up, his thumbs flicking her nipples.  She rocked back and forth.  

“I bet you’d like that,” Blue said, dragging his attention back to her.  “Wouldn’t you Arthur?  Someone to ride your hard cock, give you what you need…” She laughed.  “You wouldn’t even care who it was, would you?”

Arthur whimpered.  He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help himself.  Danse stopped fast and turned his eyes to Arthur.  He licked his lips.  His beard looked damp, even in the low light.

Blue unhooked her leg from Danse’s shoulder and pulled him to his feet.  She tugged him forward by the waist of his jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them in one fluid move.  Danse let her do it, pulling them down over the generous curve of his ass and letting them fall to the floor.  Danse kicked off his shoes, stepping out of his jeans without hesitation.

Arthur swallowed hard.  Danse was different than before.  It took ages before Arthur managed to get Danse out of his uniform. But neither of them had worn a uniform in a long time.  Might as well have been two entirely different people now.

Blue turned toward Arthur, bending down and putting her hands on the mattress, one next to his head, the other next his rib cage.  He could just barely feel the tips of her fingers against his skin.  She wagged her hips at Danse and he smirked before smacking his hand on her ass.  Arthur could feel Blue’s breath when she spoke.

“You could get everything you want, you know,” she whispered.  “Any one of us would love to give that pretty cock exactly what it needs.”  She slid forward, her hand slipping under his ribs.  “Oh fuck Danse, yes,” she muttered.  Arthur knew Danse was inside her.  He was so jealous it made his stomach hurt. Her hair brushed Arthur’s arm.

She kept talking, her voice staccato as Danse pounded into her.

“You just need to be a good boy and give us something first.  Nothing that will hurt anyone,” she said.  She groaned, arched her back.  She shifted her weight so she could curl her fingers into Arthur’s hair.  “I just want to know what your registration number is.”

It didn’t even occur to Arthur not to answer.

“Oh, it’s-” he panted.  It was hard to talk.  Just the tips of her fingers were killing him.  “It’s MX-001E.”  He wasn’t sure he was even making sense.  

“Good boy,” she said.  She leaned down and kissed his cheek. The pressure increased when Danse pushed himself against her.  As quickly as she was there, she was gone.  Danse looped his arm around her waist, pulled up up against his chest.  His other hand slipped between her legs, his fingers rubbing against her clit.  Blue’s eyes closed and her head fell back against his shoulder.  

Arthur was rapt.  He didn’t even see Trix and Gage get up and come closer until he felt the mattress dip beside his opposite hip.  Trix was sitting beside him, one leg crooked up so the length of her thigh was against him. Gage was standing in front of her.  Trix put her hand on Arthur’s sternum.

“I told you we wouldn’t hurt you, Arthur,” Trix said.  Her other hand was on Gage’s hip.  She leaned forward and ran her tongue along the underside of Gage’s cock.  “And we are so good to our friends,” she said.  “You want to be our friend, don’t you?”

Blue cried out.  Arthur’s head snapped back; he watched her face flush as she came, as Danse came inside her.  Danse’s thighs were trembling.  She was breathing hard.  She slipped herself off of Danse gingerly and sat down opposite Trix.  She put her hand just below Trix’s; her palm warm and damp with sweat.  

“We are very good friends to have Arthur,” Blue said, echoing Trix’s sentiment.

The mattress shifted again, next to his head.  Shade. She had her elbows propped up on the cot, her hair hung down between her tits.  Her chest was flushed pink.  Cait and MacCready were beside her, Cait’s fingers rubbing along Shade’s spine.  Arthur stared.

Shade took his earlobe between her teeth and nipped at it.  She whispered in his ear.

“Let’s us make you feel better, Arthur,” she said.  “We want it as much as you do.”

Arthur heard the bed frame creak as Danse came around the foot of the bed, his knee between Arthur’s ankles.  He didn’t say a word, just looked at Arthur with those dark, soulful eyes.  His hand draped over Arthur’s thigh.

“All we want to know is the radio frequency for the Citadel.  We want to help you get home,” Trix said.  “Afterwards, after you’re our friend.  And we can still be friends, but you want to go home, don’t you?”

Arthur took a shaky breath.

 _Friends.  Home._  He would have done anything.

“Twenty-eight-” he stammered.  “Twenty-eight point six megahertz.  They’re always listening.”

“Oh such a _good boy,”_ Trix said.  

“Thank you Arthur,” Shade purred into his ear.  

Blue ran her hand down his belly and her fingers -- _oh merciful god her fingers --_ wrapped around the base of his cock, angling it up away from his body. The cot creaked as Danse leaned down and took Arthur’s cock into his mouth.

Arthur screamed as he immediately had the most painful orgasm in his entire life.  


	20. The Morning After and Assorted Bullshit

The sun cast a too bright glow over the ruin of the park, making it almost seem to disappear into an uneven white mass. Trix wasn’t really looking anyway, instead watching the weird faint shadows the smoke from her cigarette made against her legs where they were propped up on the railing of the balcony.

Blue flopped down beside her, practically appearing out of nowhere. The ancient lawn chair creaked underneath her. She fished a pack of cigarettes out of Trix’s shirt pocket with the skill of an accomplished pickpocket, flipping her legs up next to Trix’s.

“Fuck yeah, that was a night,” Blue said, lighting the smoke. She took a slow drag and blew it out through her nose. “I may be ruined for other men.”

Trix looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Right,” she snarked. “Wrecked.”

“No, I’m serious, man,” Blue said. She took another drag and blew smoke out in a long exhale.

Trix laughed. “I think you’ll recover.”

Blue shrugged. There was something weird about how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You never know.”

Trix wanted to give her hell, but she couldn’t muster up the snark. That sort of weird haunted look was entirely too familiar. She knew they should just be hung over, walking funny and making plans to put bullets in ferals, but instead she was thinking about what the hell was going to happen when this was all over.

Shade’s boots clicked a familiar cadence across the tile, saving Trix from her own bullshit, at least for the moment. Blue hung her head backwards over the back of her chair, blowing a lazy stream of smoke into the air.

“I’m surprised you can fucking walk straight after last night.”

The corner of Shade’s mouth twitched. “Nothing about me is straight.”

Blue snickered.

Shade crossed her ankles and leaned against the doorway. “Last night’s debauchery aside, did we get everything we need? Is Gage in for heading to the power plant to juice up the radio?”

Trix’s throat felt too tight.

Fuck, all this shit was easier when she was fucking Hancock in the back room of the bar and Porter Gage was just a memory she tried to block out.

“Yeah,” she said as she dropped her legs from the railing and turned to look at Shade. If nothing else, she knew Gage wanted the power on to the park.  So far, no one else had the skills to get through the bullshit to flip the switch. “Once everyone is sober and coherent, we should just go.” A muscle in her jaw twitched. “And we should take Arthur with us.”

Blue frowned slightly and sat up; Shade mirrored the expression.

“Look,” Trix continued before either of them could bitch. “We can use the transmitter at the plant. No more fucking around. I want this over with, one way or the other.”

They all shared a look of wordless understanding at that. Shit had gotten _complicated._ It was way more than any of them had expected when they dragged Maxson’s sorry carcass out of the ruin of the Prydwen. But it was too late to go bitching about it now.

“Fuck yeah,” Shade said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty done with this level of bullshit. I’d really like to go back to just taking shit from assholes who don’t deserve it.”

Blue nodded. “Sounds great.”  She frowned. “That is, if we can actually go back to…you know, the way things were _before_ .”  She emphasized _before_ like a curse.  They all knew what she meant.

Trix shrugged. “Can’t really stuff this feral cat back in the bag. Can’t tame it either. Maybe it’ll run away, back into the alley where we found it or maybe it’ll stick around but either way, it’s time to let go and see what happens.”

She didn’t mean a cat any more than Blue meant _things_ but some shit was better left unsaid.

“Fuck Trix,” Shade drawled.  “What the hell kinda poetic shit is that?”

Trix chuckled.  “The shit where we just pretend everything is fine.”

“Like always then,” Blue said.  She crushed out her cigarette under the sole of her boot.  “Let’s fuck shit up.”

 

* * *

 

Everyone was quiet and it was making Trix nervous as hell.  There were really too goddamn many of them, but chances were they’d need all the help they could get.  Gage said he’d lost count of how many raiders tried to take a crack at the power plant and failed.  But it was a enough that he suggested they bring bandanas along to cover their faces, just in case.  For the smell of corpses.  

Considering the general odor of Nuka World, that was really fucking saying something.

Arthur was being frighteningly pliable. He’d been a complete and utter pain in the ass from the moment he got his shit enough together to realize what was going on. But to be fair, she hadn’t been paying him all that much attention lately, except during her daily bath time messing with him sessions.  Her heart just wasn’t in it.

Arthur Maxson had a beautiful body and a handsome face, but, _fuck_. She was looking forward to being done with him. A nice cock was great, but caps were better.

 _Words of wisdom_.

They made it out past the point where the park noises sort of faded into nothing and the wrecked shells of the little houses the employees lived in back in the day dotted the landscape. This was always worse than being in the city.  Out here, the scavengers hadn’t looted and torn everything apart, turning the rubble of the past into something else. Places like this? Some of these houses no one had stepped foot inside since the bombs fell. Sometimes you’d kick down the door and trip over some tiny skeleton with bony fingers wrapped around the shreds of a centuries old teddy bear.

Trix was a hard ass, but even she had limits.

Still, it would be stupid not to poke around in a few of them.  She had no intention of taking on the power plant until they’d all got another night’s sleep.  If it could be in a bed after some Blamco Mac n Cheese, instead of sleeping on a rock and eating a fucking cave cricket? All the better.

They were picking around as they went, but so far, nothing much. Gage was pointedly ignoring her too, but that suited her just fine. This was almost over, so no point in making shit weirder.

Trix was really great at lying to herself.  She picked dirt out from under her fingernail and pretended everything was fine.

“Holy shit,” Shade’s voice echoed out through the shattered remains of a window.  “I can’t believe it.”  Trix only had time to frown before Shade came out through the door, a long black case in one hand and a violin in the other.

“Wow,” Blue said.  She looked as out of sorts and uncomfortable as Trix felt since they left the park but her face lit up at this.  

Shade’s mouth was quirked into a smirk.  “It even has all the strings,” she said.  “I wasn’t sure I’d ever find another one after what happened to the last one.”  

Trix still didn’t know how Shade knew how to play.  Shade’s past was as dark and murky as her eyeshadow.  It wasn’t a subject up for discussion, ever.  But whatever happened to her, this was something she hung on to.  Back when they’d holed up at the Combat Zone, they’d spent a lot of nights listening to Shade play.  Blue would dance and Cait would clap and sometimes they’d even talk Trix into singing.  It was an ancient memory of a time when it felt like they could take on the whole world and kick its ass.

This was exactly what they needed.

“Maybe this is a sign,” Blue continued. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then shut it again and pursed her lips.

“A sign we outta tae have some whiskey and start a fire and worry about that power plant tomorrow?” Cait finished for her.

“That’s a plan I’m in for.”  MacCready was always willing to sign up for whatever Shade and Cait had planned.  He had it bad. For both of them.  Couldn’t really blame the guy.  

Trix caught Gage’s eyes for a moment.  Deny it all she liked, he had it pretty bad too.  Couldn’t really blame him either.  Couldn’t blame any of them.

“Right, whiskey.”  Trix took a long breath.  “Sounds like a great fucking idea.”


	21. By Firelight

They started a campfire in the space between two of the busted houses. They blocked the wind and the fire sent flickering light and gentle heat into both -- there would be enough beds if they clumped up and shared. Trix figured the whiskey would take care of those logistics when the time came. 

For now, they’d split a few cans of Cram and a relatively intact box of Instamash before breaking out the booze. There was only one bottle and split between them all, no one was going to be able to get too sideways. Trix didn’t even bring chems. Best they all be reasonably together before charging to their deaths tomorrow.

With ferals, you never knew. Either they’d be fine or they’d all be swarmed and dead before it was over. It was always one or the other with those fuckers. Still, she felt sorry for them, even as she happily blew them to pieces.

What would it be like to just lose everything that made you human?

Trix leaned back against the rough cladding of the house, the wood just faintly warm from the fire. She closed her eyes and just let the light dancing across her eyelids distract her from her racing thoughts and the quiet hum of conversation. That’s when she heard the first sharp strain of music.

She opened her eyes. Shade was standing just at the edge of the firelight, the music temporarily silent as she frowned at the strings. She turned one of the pegs and tried again. The note was slightly higher pitched this time and it seemed to please her.

With a flourish, she played the first few bars of something Trix didn’t know the name of but recognized immediately. It was one of those pretty songs the classical radio station played. She loved it when Shade played those. It was just all about the long notes and she didn’t need to worry about what it meant.

It didn’t take long before Shade had everyone’s attention. The conversations stopped dead. Blue was leaning ever so slightly against Danse, Cait was kneeling, watching Shade expectantly, her hands on her knees. MacCready set down his rifle at his side, and even Arthur, his blank expression melting away into a frown. He was still locked up, hands behind his back in a pair of old handcuffs, but from the look on his face, he didn’t seem to mind so much.

Trix tried not to look at Gage but self control was hardly her strong suit. When she turned her head to look, Gage was looking right at her. He was perched on the edge of on a old wood crate, elbows on his knees, a lazy trail of smoke wafting up from his cigar. He was back just far enough that the light didn’t entirely reach his face but it was impossible to miss.

Shade drew out one last note and the violin went silent.

No one expected Arthur to be the first one to speak. “That was beautiful.” He voice sounded a little dreamy.  “The sort of thing only a true human could do,” he muttered. “This is why we need to stop the synths before it’s too late.”

Blue shot him a look that could have melted iron. “For fuck’s sake,” she hissed.  

_ That hypocritical fucker didn’t seem so keen on stopping the synth from blowing him the night before. He hadn’t learned anything had he?   _

Without a twitch to betray it beforehand, Danse’s arm shot out and he backhanded Arthur across the face, sending him tumbling backwards. Gage snorted a laugh.

“That’s one way to end an argument before it starts.”

Shade didn’t let the silence that followed last long. “Come on Trix,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Trix frowned. “Do what?”

“You know what,” Shade sighed. “Don’t be a fucking wimp.”

Trix crossed her arms over her chest, but she knew she was going to lose this one when Gage perked up.

“Shit,” he drawled. “Whatever this is, I have got to see it.”

Trix sighed. It’s not that she didn’t like singing, but it was one thing to do it drunk off her ass at the Combat Zone.  It was another to sing in front of Gage. His opinion  _ mattered. _ It pissed her off a lot.

“Fine, just a sec,” she said, scooting over to Arthur first.  He was still flat on his back and sort of sputtering, wriggling around trying to right himself. Trix grabbed the front of his ragged t-shirt and dragged him upright. There was a red mark across the bridge of his nose and ring of blood around one nostril, a little dripping down into his beard. Trix pulled her sleeve down over the back of her hand and wiped the blood away. She leaned in close.

“Listen,” she said, just loud enough so he could hear. “You’re so close to going home. Now isn’t the time to antagonize anyone. Besides, didn’t we show you how much better things are for you when you’re a good boy?”

Arthur blinked at her. He seemed confused. Maybe Danse had rattled his brains for good this time.

She spoke a little louder. “Arthur? Did you hear me?”

He nodded, lips turned down, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Danse over her shoulder. His expression was conflicted, to say the least. She turned to look at Danse and he frowned, his eyebrows drawn down low over his eyes.

“Just don’t break him, will you? It’s entirely too close to the end to kill him now.” Trix said. “Besides, there are more effective options if you don’t want to hear him talk.”

Danse scowled but for only a heartbeat before Blue crawled up behind him and whispered something Trix couldn’t hear into his ear. His grin answering was predatory.

Trix gave Blue a look and Blue gave her best innocent expression in reply. Trix didn’t bother to say anything. She knew where this conversation would go -- but she also knew she could trust Blue to keep Danse from doing anything stupid.

She left them to whatever torture they’d come up with. Hopefully they’d survive five minutes while she did this thing. Trix dragged herself to her feet, brushing dust off the seat of her jeans.

“Christ, finally,” Shade said. “I was thinking, Ink Spots?”

Trix nodded and tried not to feel Gage’s eyes on her. For a woman who’d rode him in a room full of people less than 24 hours ago, she felt way too exposed just standing up here. Shade didn’t give her time to freak out about it though. She tucked the violin into the crook of her neck and the bow into the palm of her hand so she could pluck the strings to the familiar opening strain of the song.

Trix just went for it -- if she didn’t Shade would kick the shit out of her later.

 

_ “Maybe you'll think of me _

_ When you are all alone. _ ”

 

Trix’s voice wasn’t great -- not the sort of thing that would have been recorded back in the day. Not even good enough to compete with Magnolia, but good enough to get the point across.

 

_ “Maybe the one who is waiting for you _

_ Will prove untrue _

_ Then what will you do” _

 

Blue had curled herself up in front Danse and he had his arms around her shoulders. They’d forgotten about Arthur entirely.

 

_ “Maybe you'll sit and sigh _

_ Wishing that I were near, then” _

 

MacCready and Cait were both listening raptly, but neither of them were looking at her. She was just accompaniment to Shade’s playing as far as they were concerned.

 

_ “Maybe you'll ask me to come back again _

_ And maybe  _

_ I'll say maybe.” _

 

Finally she risked a look at Gage as her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure what she expected, maybe a stupid grin at how ridiculous she was. Instead, his face was unreadable.

“See, that was great,” Shade said. She crouched down and tucked the violin away, the latches on the case clicking shut. Trix cleared her throat and tucked a hunk of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, great.” Trix remembered this being more fun. She remembered everything being more fun.

And that was just the thing. There was really no reason this couldn’t still be fun. But she had herself all twisted up in stupid knots. Gage mattered to her.  Pretending otherwise wasn’t going to change it. This acting cool bullshit was a waste, of her probably short as fuck, life.

“So, Gage,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “What you think?”

His forehead wrinkled above his eyepatch as he raised the ruin of his eyebrow hidden underneath. Then he smiled.

_ Good enough. _

Trix could hear the others; Shade being folded into the space between Cait and MacCready, Blue’s quiet chattering and Danse’s answering chuckle. Gage shifted over on the crate and patted the spot next to him. The wood was still warm enough from his body to feel through the thin denim of Trix’s jeans. Gage draped his arm over her shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re multi-talented darlin’,” he said. She felt the cool metal of his eyepatch when he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

Trix leaned against him. Though the flickering flames of the campfire, she could see Arthur Maxson sitting on the other side, watching.  

Alone.  
  
  



	22. Bloody Footprints

“Hold on to your tits. This is gonna suck,” Trix said. Without waiting for anyone to reply, she lobbed the string of frag grenades over the railing of the catwalk. The explosion rattled the rusty metal, nearly jolting Trix to her knees.

“Fuck me, here they come!” Blue shouted, dramatically pumping her shotgun.

Ferals vomited out of the smoke like ants from a drowned hill. They were splattered with blood, a few bleeding hard, missing limbs blown off in the initial explosion. Trix felt, more than heard, the first shot from Shade’s suppressed sniper rifle. A flower of blood bloomed on the chest of one of the first ferals to clear the smoke and it collapsed into a heap.

“One down, a-fucking-thousand more to go,” Shade said as she loaded another round into the chamber.

They split off in two directions, leaving Shade and Mac with their long range rifles up in the catwalk. Blue, Dance and Cait went right, towards the front stairs to meet the mass head on. Trix and Gage went right, where the catwalk lead along the side of the room to a staircase on the other side, to catch the bastards from behind.

“Come on baby,” Gage said, spinning around the corner of the catwalk, worn boots silent on the stairs.  “I love killing assholes with you.”

Trix’s heart raced. She loved this shit too.

 

* * *

 

When it was finally over, the power plant floor looked like a slaughterhouse. They were all covered in gore, even Shade who’d rushed out of the catwalk to knife one who was trying to sneak up on Cait from behind. Only MacCready and Arthur were still relatively clean. Arthur had tried to protest that he could help them fight, but he was out of his mind if he thought they were going to trust him with a weapon. He might have been begging for their attentions ever since he finally broke, but he was as mad as a rabid mongrel.

Clean or not, they all left bloody footprints behind them as they made their way up into the building towards the control center. There were a few more ferals not drawn by the initial explosion haunting the hallways, but nothing of any real consequence.

Gage kept shaking his head as they got closer. “Fucking raiders,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You’re a raider, Gage,” Trix said, elbowing him.

“You know what I mean,” he complained. “Two years screwing around and you just walk in here like it was no big deal.”

Trix shrugged. “We know what we’re doing.”

“You have to point the guns towards the ghouls,” Shade snarked.

Blue snorted.

“Gotta be fuckin’ sober enough to get off your ass to do anything.” Gage scowled. “These sad sacks think being a raider is an excuse to be lazy. And damn, it’s better than being some settler-farmer-bullet sponge…” He shook his head. “Fuck, I’m sick of talking about it.”

One last clacking diamond mesh staircase and they came to the locked door of the control room. Danse made as if he was going to knock it down when Cait grabbed his elbow.

“Yae ain’ got yer power armor, soldier. Let ay professional handle it,” Cait said, grinning. She pulled a bobby pin out of her pocket and had the door unlocked before Danse could gather his wits enough to respond. She dramatically gestured into the control room. “After yae.”

Shade snickered. Danse had the good sense not to grumble about it, but he seemed relieved when Blue put her hand on the small of his back and guided him through the doorway in front of her. She had her hand halfway down his ass before they’d taken more than three steps, but Danse didn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s light this bitch up,” Trix said. She wiped at her forehead with the back of her thumb. She could feel the mix of blood and sweat smear across her skin.

The control room was dusty but it looked untouched. There was a long window that showed the whole park in the distance. There were a few lights from generators, fires here and there, but for the most part it was dark. A skeleton sat half slumped in a chair near the bank of buttons and circuits. It’s once white lab coat was ragged and grey with age, it’s bony grin pointed up at the ceiling.

Trix had made herself pretty familiar with whatever tech she could and this didn’t look too hard to restart. It was just a matter of doing it. She walked up next to the skeleton and rolled the chair to the side. The bones collapsed with the movement and clattered to the ground in a pile. They’d been snarking at each other non-stop since they left the main park. But now, no one spoke. It was eerie.

If this didn’t work, everything was going to go to shit.

Trix took a deep breath and flipped a few switches up and down to reset the circuits. The button for main restart was under a plastic protector so she flipped open the hinge. Someone shuffled their feet. A man cleared his throat, but she couldn’t tell who.

Trix pushed the button.

There were a few heartbeats of fear and then the sudden hum of ancient fluorescent lights getting power for the first time in centuries.

Trix looked up just in time to see Nuka-World come back to life.

“Holy shit,” Mac said. “That is amazing.” Street lights flared to life along all the winding roads in the park, neon signs flickered, strings of bulbs glittered against the black sky.

“Fuck yeah,” Blue drawled. “Now where’s the radio? Let’s do this thing.”

“No fucking way,” Gage snapped. “We can’t call the fucking Brotherhood of Steel from the hub in the middle of the park. They’ll send another one of those damn metal balloons and blow us off the map.”

“What the fuck Gage?” Trix started but was interrupted by Arthur.

“He’s right,” he said. “You’ll have to go somewhere where the lines don’t meet so they can’t trace it. Somewhere along the line to the tower so you can still tap in, but then they won’t be able to see you.” He frowned. “They aren’t above using less than honorable means to get what they want.”

“They?” Shade asked. “Not we?”

Arthur lifted his chin. “ _We._ We have to do what needs to be done for the safety of humankind.”

Shade shook her head. “Fucking typical.”

“Okay then,” Blue said, ignoring Arthur and his ongoing bullshit.  She put her hands on her hips. “Where next?”

“There’s radio lines leading west out of the park,” Gage said. “Secondary radio boxes all the way along. There’s a tall chain link fence all the way around the park. I say we wait until we can see the fence and then pick one.”

“This one isn’t _we,_ ” Trix said. “We’re gonna end this the same way we started it.”

Shade looked smug and nodded. She slung her rifle strap over her head. “I’m in.”

“Hell yes,” Blue said. “Raider babes until the end.”

 

* * *

 

Gage and the others were not particularly thrilled about being left behind, but Trix didn’t want to make this complicated. She also still wasn’t sure how many caps they were going to be able to squeeze these Brotherhood assholes for. Caps made people crazy. Better to keep the truth where it was safe.

It was mostly fields of dead grass and some annoying uneven ground between the power plant and the west edge of the park. Looked like they had plenty of room to expand though back in the day, because Trix felt like they’d been walking for a fucking year. There was the faint glow of sunrise behind them, but it was all grey and wan ahead. It was enough light to see there was still no fucking fence.

Arthur walked silently, sullen as a teenager. She thought he’d be happier to be getting back to the rest of his brainwashed minions but he was anything but.

Trix heard the distinct sound of a jet canister firing. She glanced over her shoulder to see Blue taking a hit. She passed it to Shade. Shade usually didn’t do chems, but they were all dragging ass hard. Shade took a hit and closed her eyes. She shuddered.

“I hate this shit,” she muttered. She didn’t elaborate further. “Trix?” she asked instead, offering the canister.

“Fuck, yes please,” she said, taking it and then a hit in one fluid motion. The Jet rushed over her. It was practically immediate with a rush of hot goosebumps over her scalp. She was so ready for this to be done. She wasn’t sure she had regrets; not when they were about to be swimming in caps, the power was back on in the park which might mean hot showers and clean clothes, not to mention having Porter back in her bed.

It was simpler before though. A part of her missed when it was just the three of them threatening people and scraping by.

 _Things change._ That was the only thing Trix knew for sure.

“Hey, I think I see the fence,” Shade said. She stopped to unsling her rifle and get a look through the scope. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“Fucking, finally,” Blue groused. “There’s one of those radio box things on the tower we just passed. Let’s get on with it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have you back sitting on soldier boy’s face in no time,” Shade replied, deadpan.

Blue chuckled instead of bitching about it. Trix tried not to smile. Never thought to see the day Blue caught feelings and didn’t run screaming into the Wasteland.

Shade and Blue both started back for the tower, feet crunching in the the dry grass. Trix turned to make sure Arthur was following. He was stopped dead in his tracks, still facing west with the first rays of sunrise lighting up his back. He seemed smaller than he had been, though she supposed that was logical since he’d been tied flat for weeks. But it was more than that. He still had all those cock-eyed bullshit ideas, but they didn’t seem to be puffing him up as much as they used to.

“Come on,” she said at his back. “Time to do this.”

Arthur didn’t respond.

Trix rolled her eyes and grabbed his elbow. His hands weren’t bound anymore, since there didn’t seem much point. He still had them clasped together. Habit now, maybe. He didn’t fight her, just turned and started shuffling along. He was beside her, but it didn’t take long for him to start to lag behind.

He put his head down to keep the sun out of his eyes.


	23. End Transmission

“Brotherhood of Steel Citadel,” Trix said into the hand microphone. It made her voice sound weird, scratched. “We have Arthur Maxson, registration number MX-001E and we are ready to trade for his return.”

The speaker crackled with static, but there was no response.

“Are you sure this is the right frequency?” Shade glowered at Arthur. She looked dangerously close to pulling her switchblade.

Blue’s fingers started to twitch. “Make it quick. I don’t want these assholes figuring out where we are.”

“Citadel, repeat, we have Arthur Maxson, registration number MX-001E and we are ready to trade for his return.”

Trix could feel her heartbeat in the back of her neck.

“Unknown operator, this is Brotherhood of Steel Citadel control. Please say again.” The voice was distorted but clear, female and too young and ageless all at once.

“We have Arthur Maxson, pulled from the wreckage of the Prydwen. Registration MX-001E. We are willing to trade for his safe return.”

There was a pause, then a curt reply. “Please hold.”

Trix looked at Shade and Blue, all three of them gritting their teeth. They’d been through a lot of bullshit with Arthur. Maybe some of it had been fun, but they were all sick to death of him. He was nice to look at, but Trix was really looking forward to watching him leave with a big stash of caps in her pocket.

He had his head turned away from them, blankly staring at the horizon.

The speaker buzzed with feedback. Arthur flinched. “This is Elder Talus of the Brotherhood of Steel and I regret to inform you that Arthur Maxson is dead.”

Trix started to lift the hand microphone to her face, but Blue snatched it out of her hand. She pressed the button of the side, grinning.

“Nope,” Blue said. “He’s right here, safe and sound and mostly intact.” She smirked. “And for the low, low price of one hundred thousand caps, you can have him back.” She dropped the microphone back into Trix’s hand with a flourish.

“Fucking Christ Blue,” Shade snarked. “Why don’t you ask him for a lung while you’re at it?” She rolled her eyes. “ _One hundred thousand caps_. Fuck. Even they don’t have that.”

Trix closed her eyes, debating which of her one hundred thousand scathing retorts she wanted to use. She didn’t get a chance.

“Listen very closely, you mercenary motherfuckers.” The professional tone of Elder Talus’s voice was gone. “Arthur Maxson is _dead._ Whoever you’ve got? I don’t care. Elder Arthur Maxson died a hero in service to the Brotherhood. He is dead and unless you want to join him, I’d suggest you forget this.”

“But he’s right….” Trix started but the speaker squealed with feedback as he tried to talk over her.

“...Arthur Maxson was dead the moment he took on the Institute and failed. And if he is listening-” He gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t try it. You had your chance. You aren’t welcome here anymore. The Maxson line is over.” The Elder’s voice was low and deadly. “End transmission.”

The radio went dead. Shade flipped the switch, powering it down. “No point in risking it.”

Trix slowly turned to Arthur. Her cheeks were burning with rage.

“You _knew_ ,” she hissed through her clenched teeth. “That's why you've been such a baby since he left the park. You fucking knew all along, didn’t you?”

He didn’t look at her, still staring into the distance. “I didn’t know,” he said. “But I suspected.”

Trix snorted. “And yet you didn’t tell us, or make any effort to not be a complete fuck about everything?”

He slowly turned his head back to her. His eyes were hard, far more confident than they’d been in weeks. “I did what I was trained to do.”

Blue broke out in dark laughter. “Begging a synth to suck your cock was part of your training? Hell, maybe I’ll join up.”

Arthur scowled. He tried to glare at her but he couldn’t hold it. He looked down at the ground out of the corner of his eye. “Even I have limits.” He tried again, rolling his shoulders, putting his chin up. “But it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, I’ll be more valuable to the Brotherhood dead than I ever was alive. They will still save humanity from itself, with or without me.”

Shade rolled her eyes. “You still believe that stupid shit?”

“Right?” Blue added. “I know you’re fucking in love with Danse, yet you still think he’s not a person?”

That hit a nerve. “I cannot love a _thing!_ ”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Blue said. She grunted. “He doesn’t deserve Danse anyway. He’s fucking hopeless.”

While they argued, Trix’s hand drifted to her pistol in the holster strapped to her thigh. She unhooked the strap and slowly pulled the 9mm out, letting it hang limply at her side.

Arthur turned his back to them in a show of defiance. Apparently just hearing the voices on the radio was enough to flip a switch in him. They’d never really broken him. Trix could see that now.

“Say what you will,” Arthur said. “I believe in the Brotherhood’s mission. If I best serve that by my death, so be it.”

Trix lifted her pistol and pressed it hard into the back of his skill.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? You know, it’s people like you,” she snapped, thrusting the barrel hard into his skin. “That are the reason this world is a goddamn wasteland. People willing to die for their bullshit, but not do the hard work of living it. People who think they _know better_ than the rest of us, but I have bad fucking news for you. We are all doing just fine without your interference.”

“Fine?” he snorted. “You’re hardly surviving.”

“But we are surviving,” she said. “And we haven’t been brainwashed. You fuckers, you go after the most vulnerable, people like Danse who don’t have anyone and just twist them into monsters. And before you fucking start blathering, he _is_ a person. So are ghouls. So are all of us. But groups like the Institute, like your fucking precious Brotherhood? The idea of them becomes more important than people and that’s when all the crap happens. Nuclear war, flying ships blowing out of the sky, even supposedly important people like you --  all of us are expendable to the _cause_. Can’t you see it?” She pushed harder with the pistol, almost willing him to suddenly have some fucking sense.

“We may be trash, just raiders, right at the bottom of the pile,” Trix said. “But at least we’re free.”

“Shield yourself from those not bound to you by steel,” Arthur said. His voice was more robotic than any synth’s ever was. “For they are blind.”

Shade groaned. “Fuck, just shoot him already.”

“We would have taken you in, you know,” Trix said. His shoulders slumped. “But you’re too fucking stubborn to know a good thing when you’ve got it. You aren’t even worth a bullet. Dying fast is easy. You ain’t earned it.”

The muscles in his back tensed again. Arthur wasn’t afraid of dying, but he was doing a piss poor job of being alive. He was afraid.

“I want you to go.  Go right now and don’t come back.  Because mark my words, Arthur _fucking_ Maxson, if we see you again, you will regret it.” Trix was done with him. “No one will be gently cradling your balls next time.”

“I’ll cut ‘em off with my switchblade and hang ‘em off the end of my rifle for luck.” Shade offered.

“I’ll hold him down,” Blue said.

Trix grinned at them over her shoulder. “And I’ll make sure to stop the bleeding so you can live a nice long, uncomfortable, hungry dirty ball-less wasteland life.” She smacked him on the back of the head with her pistol. Not hard enough to knock him out, but certainly hard enough that he saw stars.

Arthur stumbled forward, clutching the back of his head. “You bitches.”

They laughed in unison.

“All the best people are,” Blue said, grinning. “Now get out of here before Shade gets antsy.

Shade chuckled. “No one wants that. Especially not you.”

Arthur looked back at them. Trix caught his eyes. She could see him wanting to plead with her. He wanted her to change her mind, take him back in and tie him up and force him to give in. His pride wouldn’t let him give in on his own.

_Fuck him_.

“Go.” Trix said, jerking her chin towards the fence. “If you go now, you can be out of the park before any other these other bastards find out we let you go.” She smiled like a snake. “And I promise, we’re a lot nicer than they are.” She could be a soft touch sometimes, but he wasn’t worth it. He’d never change his mind.

He turned and started to walk away slowly, trying to maintain some of his dignity.

Blue pumped her rifle, the click of the shell into the chamber echoing in the quiet of dawn. “Think I can manage to pepper his balls at this range?”

“Totally, “Shade laughed. “Wouldn’t even kill him but his sack would look like a colander.”

Arthur Maxson tucked his tail between his legs and ran into the Wasteland chased by the sound of their laughter.

Trix crossed her arms over her chest and watched him go. If she’d known this was how it was going to go when they dragged him out of the smoldering steel of the Prydwen... _she smirked_... if she’d known she would have done everything exactly the same way.

Their little family of misfits was bigger now; MacCready, Cait, Danse, Gage. They’d taken a look at the fucked up mess of their lives and instead of running away said _hell, sign me up_. Trix didn’t blame them for a second.

“Come on,” Trix said. “Maybe we don’t have a bunch of caps, but we got rid of him and we got the power back on in the park. Who knows what kind of stuff we can get up to now?”

Blue smiled. “Yeah, we can fuck with the lights on.”

“Holy shit,” Shade laughed. “Do you ever think about anything else?”

Blue cocked her head, tapped her finger against her lip. “I think about food and booze.” She managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds before laughing again.

Trix couldn’t help but laugh too. She grabbed her sunglasses out of the pocket of her flannel and slipped them on. The sun was just over the horizon now and they had to head right towards it, back east towards Nuka-World and fuck knows what sort of new trouble they were going to get into.

She slung an arm around Blue’s shoulder and another around Shade’s waist. “Let’s go,” Trix said “There’s a bunch of people looking forward to fulfilling all our favorite needs.”

“Hell yes,” Blue cheered.

“Food, booze, bullets,” Shade said. She looked sly and sincere for a few heartbeats. “And maybe some love.”

Blue blushed hard but didn’t contradict her.

It was perfect, not the sunset from one of those old hokey comics where the good guy rode off into the orange glow, ta-da, the end. None of that bullshit. They were gonna march right off into the sunrise. This wasn’t the end. They were just getting started.

“It’s exactly what we deserve,” Trix said.

_Karma was her favorite bitch._


End file.
